The Training: Secret Project
by Fomalhaut
Summary: 30 students from Jefferson High School are selected for a top-secret government experiment known as "The Training", with cruel rules: they will have to kill each other. COMPLETED
1. The chosen class

**Changed the slashes to quotations. Hope you'll read and review, I'd love some feedback about the characters, predictions, anything!**

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**Jefferson High, 10./C**

**Boys**

1. George Adams

2. Jacob Anderson

3. Benjamin Booster

4. Gabriel Donaghy

5. Peter Gayle

6. Mark Hawkes

7. Arnold Ledger

8. Edward McGrant

9. Thomas Reed

10. Daniel Scovell

11. Michael Spencer

12. Jonathan Stanley

13. Alistair Vine

14. Nicholas Wallace

15. William Wosley

**Girls**

1. Josephine Anderson

2. Madeleine Beaumont

3. Lily Bell

4. Kristen Boone

5. Lindsay Carter

6. Rebecca Chapman

7. Susan Fletcher

8. Rose German

9. Martha Miller

10. Darla Peterson

11. Hannah Poulston

12. Mary Rogan

13. Dora Sanders

14. Frances Swearingen

15. Belinda Sykes

**Prologue**

**Jefferson High, 10./C – PE Class, Wednesday, 10 AM**

"Good, very good, girls!" Miss Harriet Durham, the PE teacher, blew a whistle after the first of the two classes in a row was over „once you've all run the 20 rounds, leisure time!"

"Great, finally!" Lily Bell (Girl #3), who had finished a while before, jumped up from the bench, and immediately called her wide group of friends, better known as "Clan Lily" "hey girls, what about volleyball?"

The whole group immediately began to show their agreement.

"I'll grab a ball!" the dyed blonde-haired, slightly overweight Belinda Sykes (Girl #15) quickly went in search of one.

The other members of the "clan", namely Kristen Boone (Girl #4), Rebecca Chapman (Girl #6), Susan Fletcher (Girl #7) and Darla Peterson (Girl #10) got busy discussing possible tactics.

"Why do we always have to play volleyball?" panted Lindsay Carter (Girl #5), still at the 19th round, visibly running out of both breath and energy.

"'Cause Lily said so! And not everybody is a complete failure like _somebody I know_!" mocked Susan "Lily, I hope you will be the first to choose between the team captains!"

"Why, of course, I suggested volleyball in the first place… Krissie, would you take care of the other team?"

"But Lily, then _she_ will be in _my_ team!" Kristen looked sadly at Lindsay with her beautiful black eyes.

"Volleyball, volleyball, always and only volleyball!" a deep voice was heard "why not soccer or basketball for a change?"

The whole Clan Lily stared with open hatred at Rose German (Girl #8), who towered above them with her 185 centimetres.

"Leave them be, they said volleyball, and volleyball it will be" sighed the top student Martha Miller (Girl #9), Rose's best friend "and Rory, you really shouldn't bug them constantly."

"Who cares about these snobs?" snickered the girl who fully deserved her boyish nickname, while putting a hand on Martha's shoulder.

At this, Susan and Rebecca immediately began murmuring. Martha had to grab Rose's arm to stop her.

"Don't mind…"

"Girls!" Miss Durham's called again "the boys will join us soon, it started raining outside!"

"Boys against girls, then!" laughed the petite Darla.

"But Krissie!" said, almost panicking, the not too bright Rebecca "you'll have to play againt Pete!"

"And…?" Kristen tilted her head. A second later, she was already happily waving to her entering boyfriend, Peter Gayle (Boy #5).

"Will it be a soccer match? We couldn't finish ours out there!" asked Michael Spencer (Boy #11), the star attacker of the school team.

"No way, you're too good at that!" laughed Frances Swearingen (Girl #14) "what are you trying to suggest, poor, weak girls against the school team?"

"Well, why not?" the mulatto Arnold Leger (Boy #7) was ready to back-up Michael "show us what you've got!"

"_La reine_ said it will be volleyball, and volleyball it is…" Madeleine Beaumont (Girl #2), originally from Lyon, France, threw a bored glance at Lily, who was busy inspecting the ball Belinda got her.

"Dictionary, anyone?!" skater Thomas Reed (Boy #9) immediately caught her slight mistake as she forgot to say everything in English.

"Right, try to speak some common tongue already!" Mark Hawkes (Boy #6) laughed.

Madeleine's dark sapphire blue eyes sent them a killer look, but they just winked.

"But that's sooo girly!" Arnold still didn't seem very pleased with volleyball.

"Come on, Arnie, we'll just play" Edward McGrant (Boy #8), another member of the team, tried to calm him down "it's just one hour!"

He didn't add "and then there will be my favourite, literature class!" for he knew too well Arnie couldn't stand it.

"Jayyy!!!" shouted Josephine Anderson (Girl #1) to her twin brother "the neeet!!!"

"Okay!" Jacob Anderson (Boy #2), quite used to the tyranny of his dominating sister, surrendered and went to help her with the volley net.

"So it'll be volleyball after all" Dora Sanders (Girl #13) sat on a bench, not sure if this was what she really wanted to do. Who cares, she would never get to decide after all…

"We'll defeat the girls for sure" Jonathan Stanley (Boy #12), tough boy in class, grinned.

"And I already know what we'll ask as a reward!" added his buddy, Benjamin Booster (Boy #3).

"What?" Dora looked up interrogatively.

Benjamin just licked his lips, to which the girl immediately frowned.

"In your dreams!" Lindsay gasped, as she had just finished the 20 rounds, her two low ponytails dripping from sweat.

"Excuse me, little retard, but who ya think is such a loser to waste any time on _you_?" George Adams (Boy #1), the cool trendy boy who at the moment happened to be Lily's boyfriend (quite intermittently, to tell the truth) joined Jonathan and Benjamin.

"Could you please leave her alone, once in a while?" Daniel Scovell (Boy #10), Lindsay's best childhood friend, tried to get them to stop.

Jonathan just gave him a shove, but at least walked away.

"Let's beat the girls! Oh yeah!" the last boy to enter, William Wosley (Boy #15), class clown, stormed in soaking wet and leaving a trail of muddy footrpints.

"Wosley, wipe your shoes NOW!" Miss Durham ordered angrily.

"It's… dirty…!" Gabriel Donaghy (Boy #4), who all in all, seemed Prince Charming incarnate, stared at the ground in disgust.

"Gabe, Gabe" he heard Josephine's voice "Jay is sooo clumsy, will you help me with the net instead?"

"Sure!" Gabriel threw back his golden locks.

"Poulston!" Miss Durham called, annoyed "I already told you to get those things down!"

"But… I…" Hannah Poulston (Girl #11) nervously reached for her jewels.

"It's dangerous!"

"Let me help" Mary Rogan (Girl #12), a mature, calm friend of Hannah's (their close-knit group included also Madeleine and Frances) walked up to her, ready to rid her of her two necklaces, three bracelets and two rings.

"Let me leave these on, please!" Hannah pointed at her huge, gold hoop earrings.

"Fine then" Mary found it useless to tell her, for about the hundredth time, that she looked much better without all those striking accessories.

"Let's get ready then, I don't mind if it's not basketball…" the voice, though it wasn't directed to her, sent a jolt down Mary's spine.

Nicholas Wallace (Boy #14), school champion and excellent sportsman, looked at the finally complete net. The tallest student in class, though there was no noticeable difference between him and Rose.

"You'll have an advantage in that, as in everything!" the extremely short, perhaps even less than 140 centimetres, red-haired Alistair Vine (Boy #13) walked up to him.

William, Alistair's best friend, chuckled seeing their difference in height.

"Come on!" the short boy blushed "erm… let's start!"

"Of course! And, obviously, the boys will begin!"George took the ball from Lily, almost casually brushing a finger over her smooth, solarium-tanned skin.

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As the bell rang, the current result was a draw. Sadly, they couldn't continue, as the literature lesson was drawing near.

"Hallo?"Miss Durham, in total secret, made a phone call after everyone had exited "it's been a long time now, right? So… yes. There would be a class here, Jefferson High, 10./C… just perfect for _the Training_."

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**I'll frequently use French when Madeleine is speaking. Translations will be at the end, similar to footnotes. Here "La reine" = "The queen".**

**R&R, that will keep me going (It's all done, btw, I just have to translate it from my mother tongue)**


	2. Journey to nowhere

**Thanks for the kind reviews. Please R&R, the actual "training" will really begin only in the next chapter.**

**This is another character introduction chapter, please bear with me! I just didn't want anyone to die without even saying a line, like Mayumi Tendo in the original.**

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The 10./C was all excited about the class trip, planned to take place on the shore of a lake.

"Oh, man, check her out… woah…" Benjamin Booster (Boy #3) had to wipe some drool from the angle of his mouth, as Madeleine Beaumont (Girl #2), proud as a goddess as always, stepped on the bus and passed by his seat, her short yellow silk skirt and frilly blue shirt showing off her curves. As she smiled at her friends, Frances Swearingen (Girl #14), the funny girl in class, Mary Rogan (Girl #12), the mother figure, and Hannah Poulston (Girl #11), who was busy as usual checking her make-up in her pocket mirror, Benjamin couldn't help but think about those full lips doing something much different…

"Don't think I can't tell what you'rhe wondering about… ass'ole!" Madeleine said without any emotion as she sat down.

Benjamin just licked his lips, but the girl wasn't paying him any more attention: she directed her bored gaze out of the window. Yes, undoubtedly the most beautiful girl in class, with her dark sapphire blue eyes and flowing ebony black curls.

"How many guys had she slept with, whaddaya say?" Jonathan Stanley (Boy #12) asked his friend.

"At least ten… and she pretends to fool us! Virgin… tell your grandma…!" Benjamin snickered, relating to the huge golden cross the girl in question was wearing.

Even if Madeleine looked so gorgeous, her somewhat stern attitude prevented her from becoming really popular, not that she seemed to mind.

"Yaaaayyy!!! Andy will take me to the concert!!! EEEE!!!" Rebecca Chapman's (Girl #6) irritating high-pitched voice could be heard even outside "I love you, Britney!!!"

_How can someone with the brains of about a handful of butterflies be already at her fourth or fifth boyfriend…?_ Lindsay Carter (Girl #5) asked herself, as she looked for a place to sit. Nevertheless, she tried to be polite.

"Britney? Really? So you're going?" she smiled.

"Duh, listen, retarded chatterbox, do you think she's going to get you a ticket as well?" Susan Fletcher (Girl #7), almost Lily's personal bodyguard and bully, glared at her with disgust.

"N-no!" Lindsay stammered "I j-just asked, I think it's fine and…"

"Come on, Linnie, sit next to me…" sighed her best childhood friend, Daniel Scovell (Boy #10), and dragged her as far as possible from Clan Lily.

"Thanks, Susie…" Lily Bell (Girl #3) muttered, without even looking up from her cellphone "Giorgio, babe! Where are you?" she lifted it to her ear.

"Closer and closer, baby…" George Adams (Boy #1) jumped on the bus and immediately pulled Lily up from her seat. Benjamin had to wipe away some more drool as they began to snog passionately in front of everyone.

"Weren't they through two days ago?" Josephine Anderson (Girl #1) leant to Dora Sanders (Girl #13), who was unlucky enough to sit the closest to the huge gossiping machine.

"It's their stuff, Josie, I don't really mind… if they want to, fine…" she merely shrugged.

Kristen Boone (Girl #4) and Peter Gayle (Boy #5), known as the most harmonious couple in class, used to be much more modest. Right now they were simply holding hands as they sat next to each other, happy to be together.

"Oh, my! Are we late?" short and fragile Darla Peterson (Girl #10) joined them in a hurry, with Belinda Sykes (Girl #15) on her trail "sorry, Bel and I had a slumber party last night and…"

"No, it's fine!" Lily laughed "now get here, you two!"

With this, she pushed George away as if he was just an object.

He fell right on the seat beside Jacob Anderson (Boy #2), whom her twin sister had shooed away, as she wanted to sit next to a girl.

"Oh my, I can't wait to show this off!" William Wosley (Boy #15), the freaky class clown adjusted his thick-framed glasses "Al, Al, we MUST play this at the school festival and…"

Alistair Vine (Boy #13), whose feet were dangling in the air even though the bus seat wasn't particularly high, tried in vain to calm him down.

"Um, Willie, this is the class trip…"

"And?"

"It means we won't find a piano…"

"ARGH!"

"Composed something new?" Daniel, a choir singer, leant forward to the two musician friends.

Meanwhile, the last cluster of boys included the sporty ones, like the tall blonde Nicholas Wallace (Boy #14), who seemed not to notice Mary's longing stare from across the corridor, as he stood up from beside good guy-looking football star Michael Spencer (Boy #12) to inspect curiously the football album Arnold Ledger (Boy #7) and Edward McGrant (Boy #8) brought along.

"Here, take it!" Arnie handed it to him "I've got something else to discuss with Eddie anyway!"

"Thanks, you're great!"

"Arnie…" Eddie seemed worried "not again…"

"Yes!" his friend whispered in delight "Mr. Harvey promised I can really _light up_ the last night of this school trip!"

Eddie sighed. Arnie and his stupid fireworks… why did he have such a dangerous hobby, as opposed to his, which was, plain and simple, reading?

"And I still say we should have brought our skateboards!" Thomas Reed (Boy #9) couldn't stop arguing about this ever since he and his friend Mark Hawkes (Boy #6) had sat down.

"Stop it, Tom. It wouldn't fit." Mark didn't even look up from the newest vampire-themed bloody novel he managed to get his hands on.

"Martha! Can I see that?" Michael's shining light brown eyes widened as she saw what Martha Miller (Girl #9) was holding "are we going really there? It looks fine!"

"Yes, I printed these from the Internet!" she smiled, handing over the photographs of the holiday resort.

"Always paying attention to everything, eh?" Gabriel Donaghy (Boy #4), the Prince Charming and soloist of the school choir, looked back at her "hey Mike, will you pass it over as you're done?"

Martha shivered at the sound of his melodious voice, and just smiled to herself. She kept an empty seat beside her for her best friend.

"Miss German, get on the bus now!"

Rose German (Girl #8) lifted her arm to control her watch.

"We're only two minutes late" she lit a cigarette "let me just have one smoke."

Even Miss Durham was shorter than the strongest girl, so she had to look up to meet her gaze, hidden behind sunglasses as usual.

"No" with this, the teacher snatched the cigarette from her and threw it away.

"Roooryyyy!!!" shouted Susan from a window of the bus "it's so rude to leave your _girlfriend_ alone!"

"Please…" Martha Miller blushed slightly, quite fed up with these silly rumors.

"Omigosh!" pointed Susan, pretending to be completely scandalized "blushing! She's admitting it!!!"

Rose immediately ran inside, followed by Miss Durham, who soon took her seat beside the head teacher of the 10./C, Mr. Charles Harvey. It was only their presence that kept Rose from beating the whole Clan Lily to a pulp and tossing them out of the window.

It was a beautiful evening, and the dusk soon gave place to the night, less than an hour after the bus began its journey.

"Danny, Danny, look, the Lion! Your star sign!" Lindsay grasped his friend's arm as the first stars appeared. Too bad Danny seemed to be sleeping. The girl closed her eyes a moment later, and this wasn't due only to the fact that she was a sleepyhead in any case.

Dora gazed out of the window to spot the constellation as well, as Josephine fell back and finally stopped talking. She remembered how Lindsay showed her some secrets of the night sky only a few weeks before. Not that the class outcast and her were especially close, but at least she accepted to talk to her. However, suddenly her eyelids felt extremely heavy. Maybe she had done too much house chores that day? She yawned and decided she'd better take a nap.

Others around the bus weren't feeling much more awake, either. The constant chit-chat from around Clan Lily had suddenly ceased, though at least one dirty remark was to be expected from Susan, upon seeing Martha's head resting in Rose's lap. Even Willie and Al had stopped whistling tunes.

"Mary…?" Hannah fiddled with one of her necklaces "where is…" her head fell on the sleeping Mary's shoulder.

_Where is Miss Durham?_

For she had disappeared from beside Mr. Harvey.


	3. Seulement un jeu?

**Okay, been posting a lot this week. Since I have University issues to deal with, I won't submit chapters this often from now on, and though there are no deaths yet, bear with me! I didn't want to throw in a chapter of 6 or 7 pages just to include the first few.**

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Map of the island in my profile. It would be hard to imagine without that.**

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**Reviews keep me going, please send me tips, preferences, anything!**

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"What?! The whole trip was a fake?!"

Madeleine woke up hearing Frances' voice.

"_Qu'est-ce qui se passe, Françoise_?" she looked around confused.

"I have no idea, Maddie, but this is just so strange…" Mary looked up, while also the fourth member of their group, Hannah lifted her head.

"Fran, what the fuck is going on?!" shouted Benjamin from the other end of the classroom.

"What the hell, school… once again?!" Arnie slammed his hands on the desk angrily.

For they were in a normal classroom closely resembling their own, with desks placed just as usual.

"Um, Linnie… wake up…" Daniel began poking his best friend, but the girl just slapped his hand and kept on sleeping peacefully.

Peter jumped up and shook Kristen awake, while the rest of the boys started to slowly regain consciousness too. Lily's clique looked around puzzled, while she, the leader, waited for whatever may come pretending to be calm. Rose, sitting at the very back, didn't semm to bother: she merely laid the back of her chair against the wall, put her feet on the desk, and didn't pay any attention to Martha's questions.

But even she couldn't ignore Dora's scared scream:

"What… wait… what is this thing on my neck?!"

The others noticed only now the thin metal band around their necks, which was about two centimetres wide and half a centimetre thick.

"What the heck?! Are we dogs?!" Jonathan immediately began pulling at his, but it just wouldn't come off.

Soon the door opened, and Miss Durham walked in.

"Finally!" Nicholas crossed his arms.

"What the hell is going on?" George didn't like the situation at all.

"Um, Miss Durham…? Excuse me, what is going on?" asked Alistair shyly. William, sitting beside him, winced slightly.

"Let me explain to you…"

"Hey, there are wood plates on the windows!" Mark noticed suddenly.

"Oh crap!" Thomas turned towards them as well.

"Wait, what?" Edward didn't know whether to stare at the darkness, or at Arnie for some kind of reassurement.

Belinda started muttering incoherent sentences, Darla began turning her head around with amazing speed, while Rebecca showed off all her frightened child-like screams, and, in a few seconds, complete chaos ensued.

Eventually Miss Durham blew a whistle, and everyone went silent.

"First, this isn't your class trip."

"Then what?" Lindsay, at the sound of the whistle, managed to wake up as well, and immediately looked at her watch "wow, it's almost 3 PM! Must have slept a lot!"

"Shut up, Carter, and you'll see soon. Oh, by the way, it's night."

The door opened again, and three men dressed in black suits entered. Nearly all the students stiffened, for they had guns on their belts.

"Stanley, stop pulling at your collar now."

"What if I don't?" Jonathan just kept on doing it.

"Well, it will explode then."

"Oh come on, what the crap!"

The three men pointed their guns at him, and he reluctantly placed his hands on the desk.

"We're on an island…"

"Wait, what about the lake?" Josephine tilted her head.

"Josie, I don't think this is fun…" Jacob glanced at her sister.

"Quit fooling around, I have already said this isn't the class trip!"

"This looks like a prison…" Peter didn't fell sure at all.

"Now, I said shut up to all of you! So, only I will talk from now on, or it will end up badly… very badly!" Miss Durham pointed at the three men. Nobody dared to say a word, even Jonathan stopped playing with his collar. The only one who still didn't bother was Rose, who, by now, had also pulled out a cigarette, though she didn't dare lighting it.

"From now on, you're contestants of the Training!"

"Really?" Nick's eyes lit up. He had no idea at all what _the Training_ was, but a some sort of a contest? This could only be something truly exciting!

"Yes…" as the door opened yet again, Mr. Harvey appeared, looking a little dazed; probably he had woken up only a short while before.

"Oh, hi, Charlie!" smiled Miss Durham "what do you say?"

"Um, I guess it's a great honor… the secret Training of the Government… well, you all have heard rumors, right? Don't worry, I'm sure it's nothing too dangerous, it's probably kept in secret because otherwise everybody would love to participate."

Nearly everyone smiled or nodded, apart from the completely frightened Rebecca, and Madeleine, who was staring cynically.

"So" Miss Durham continued "who didn't… well, we're a powerful country, and, if an attack takes place, we can't risk being full of little weaklings, and we couldn't take rebellious clusters or inner breaks, right? So, if there were any menace, and you were to take up arms against it… yes, Boone, put down your hand, the girls too! We will also measure how strong today's youth is.

"So, is it some sort of surviving game, obstacle race or similar?" Lily smiled "sounds exciting!"

"Sure!" the whole Clan Lily began to nod and chatter profusely.

"Dear God, not PE again…" Lindsay stared at the ceiling.

"Not PE, Carter, but being in good shape won't hurt!"

"Then what?" asked Benjamin "and don't underestimate boys, ya girls!"

"Yeah, boys will be much better than you!" Jonathan added, while unconsciously touching his collar again.

"We will eliminate the weaklings, and the strong ones won't be held back by anyone. In short…

At the word "eliminate" several people looked at each other with fear. _What the hell…?_

"…your task is easy. You will have to kill each other. The survivor is a pride of the country.

"What?!" Mr. Harvey turned white, and jumped up "Harriet! You just said it was a test, I won't let you! And…"

Miss Durham just grinned, pulled out a small pistol, and shot three times. Blood sprayed on the first desk on the right, closest to the door, namely George's. As Mr. Harvey fell, even Rose dropped the cigarette, while almost everyone, including the boys, let out a scream.

"Now, no mercy, my dears" Miss Durham, just as if she had just showed how to do climb a rope or kick a ball, smiled at the thirty scared tenth-graders.

"Now" Miss Durham switched on a projector, to make the map of an island appear on a linen before the blackboard "the Training does not take place every year, or with everyone. When one of the coordinators, like me, finds it all right…"

"But why us?!" Martha's glasses were all wet from tears.

"We need equal possibilities in a strong class. Fifteen boys, fifteen girls, and I know you quite well. We need people aged from fourteen to eighteen, and you're all sixteen."

"And what about all these deaths, huh?" yelled Susan crying.

"What? A tragic accident happened when the bus was involved in an accident! And your coffins" everyone shivered "will be closed hermetically. The winner will have lots of privileges in all their lives."

"And no one notices some accidents regularly taking place?!" Daniel slammed his fist on the desk.

"Now, Scovell, when did _you_ last hear about anything like that? We don't always choose classes, and never use the exact same scheme."

"Josie…" Jacob leant to his sister, but the next moment a bullet flew just over his head.

"Anderson, I didn't shoot you only because the teacher mustn't. Now, be quiet!

Several people were crying while Miss Durham calmly explained that the island hosts a small town in the centre (the residents left a week before, having been told there was serious risk of s tsunami), a mountain on the north-west, wheatfields on the southwest, rocks on the east, a sandy beach on the south, and a small lake on the north. There was also a tiny port on the northwest. The rest is wooded. The map was divided into squares singed with numbers and letters.

Peter noticed something. "Rocks on the east", here Lily coughed, then looked at her friends knowingly.

"So" Miss Durham clapped "the school is in the E8 zone. Half an hour after the last of you leaves, it will become a danger zone. Whoever enters one… well, they will get their collar detonated. Each zone is about 200 square metres large. Every six hours me and my dear colleagues will tell you who died, and also new, random danger zones. You will have to run into each other eventually, and since only one can stay alive… you understand, right? But be careful! If there are no deaths in twenty-four hours in a row, then unfortunately everyone will die in the dreadful accident. We can detonate your collars whenever we want! Now, everyone will receive a backpack. In each one there's a map, a list of classmates, a compass, a watch, a flashlight, two bottles of water and two large pieces of bread. And, of course, a weapon… a different one for all of you. Someone who gets a gun is not necesarily in advantage!

"Hm, a gun, eh?" William's eyebrow twitched "and if someone wins with bullet wounds…"

"We've got doctors" Miss Durham didn't even look at the class clown "so now the computer will randomly show who will exit first. One boy, one girl, every two minutes, decided by your number in the class roster. Oh, by the way, the phones and cellulars don't work, though you can keep your own bags. And there's no electricity or water. That's all. Don't embarrass me, be strong and determined! Now, while the computer is working, take the piece of paper and the pen on your desks and write: _We need to kill to stay alive. If I don't, I will die, for the others have no mercy. _Three times! Vine, Scovell, German, Chapman, Poulston! Write!"

Lily Bell, under the three sentences added also a huge _EAST_ word, then held her paper vertically. She did well, all her friends could see it (with the exception of Rebecca, who cried with her face on the desk), but Miss Durham didn't notice anything.

"Okay, on to the game!"

"_Pute folle! Seluement un jeu?!_" Madeleine kicked over her chair.

"Oh my, how sad I wasn't ever good at foreign lanuages… sit down, Beaumon… hold a moment!

"The first to exit will be Girl #2, Madeleine Beaumont. The computer just gave your name out."

Madeleine's beautiful face flushed red.

"Fast, Beaumont!"

"Fine, fine, I'm therhe!" she took a bag, and walked out with sure steps, her head raised.

"The next one will be Boy #3, Benjamin Booster. Stop shaking, Anderson, you will be the last."

The procession continued. Most of the students cried, not only the girls.

There were a few, though, who didn't simply run randomly in some direction…

**30 contestants remaining**

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**"Qu'est-ce qui se passe, Francoise?" = "What happened, Frances?"; "Pute folle! Seulement un jeu?!" = "Stupid bitch! Only a game?!"**

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	4. Tragedy on the cliffs

**Once again thanks for the kind reviews. I still strongly recommend you to check out, maybe even save, the map of the island from my profile, since I'll be mentioning zones and buildings very often!**

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Kristen Boone (Girl #4), who exited after Gabriel Donaghy (Boy #4), waited right beside the wall for her boyfriend, Peter. Meanwhile, in the moonlight, she could check out her bag, and eventually found a bowie knife inside it. Could come in handy for self-defense: she hung it on her cool, thin belt. Luckily there was no compulsory uniform at Jefferson High School.

Peter Gayle (Boy #5) showed up shortly thereafter.

"Petie!"

"Kris!"

They hugged and kissed.

"Petie, Petie, we gotta wait for Becky!"

"Kris, we can't! After me comes Lindsay, then Mark, and Becky only then!"

"Are you afraid of them, Petie?!"

Kristen was a little scared herself, but she would have never admitted it. But Peter… he was usually the one who never showed fear. He loved snowboarding, risking his life with all the crazy evolutions, while Kristen could barely go skiing on a light slope. Her thoughts, though barely for a moment, wandered back to the previous winter…

"Well… afraid?" Peter's voice woke her up "Lindsay is a total loser, not really, and Mark is my friend as well… but ah, who knows now! I think we should hurry up anyway. Just a minute, let me see… cool!

Peter found a fully loaded Beretta 92 brand pistol in his bag.

"East, to the rocks!"

"I have noticed too, Kris. We'll gather there, and be much more safe as a group!

Kristen was happy. Not because of the Training, obviously, but because she could be with Peter as always, with Peter, her only true love. As a member of Clan Lily, proud of her fantastic friends and taking up their attitude, Kristen really didn't stick out. But for Peter, the charming, good-looking, sporty guy to choose her, among all others… she had a large, turned-up nose, too wide lips, completely untamaeble dark locks and wasn't really an ideal poster girl…

And Petie, her dear Petie loved her truly. Now, with the whole group, they will make up a wonderful plan and escape this damned island. In a few years, then, she could already see herself stepping out the church as Kristen Gayle.

"Don't worry, Kris. Everything will be just fine!" Peter smiled at her. Oh, how she loved his optimism too!

Kristen, feeling his heat from his hand holding hers, lost herself in memories.

"But why me, Petie? I'm nothing special… look at Lily…"

"Come on, Kris, stop speaking nonsense! Especially nonsense you perfectly know _is_ nonsense. Lily could turn herself around and walk in bikini, she's never as worthy as you."

Hearing the name "Lily Bell" usually made guys drool and snicker. But Petie…

Then there was that night, just two months before, when she stayed at their home. Together forever… they belong together, no matter what happens…

"Oh, Petie…"

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_Everyone's out to get ME!_

Lindsay Carter (Girl #5), the class outcast (or rather an innocent bystander nobody cared about, except for her only true friend, Daniel), ran desperately along the streets of the small town. Soon she had to stop, coughing and running out of breath as usual. She quickly chose a two-story building as an ideal one to hide in, but the door was locked. She walked around it, but no back door.

_Oh my God, others are already out here! If anyone sees me, I'm dead on the spot!_

That exact moment, she spotted the dog door, probably planned for a large animal. She knelt down and crawled in (getting her jeans quite dirty, but that moment, she really couldn't care less), then pulled her two bags with her. Finally inside! She ran up the stairs and fell on the bed there. Sleep. The most important thing now. For, when sleepy, Lindsay usually staggered, couldn't concentrate, and sometimes even her fever ran up; and being in the Training feverishly and weakly was one of the worst scenarios she could imagine.

_I will wake up to the news, and even if someone enters. But I'd need a weapon, let's see…_

Thus she opened the backpack she got.

* * *

Arnold Ledger (Boy #7), saw Susan Fletcher (Girl #7) running away; though he was holding his fully loaded Sig Sauer P226 pistol, why would he shoot her? He wasn't playing, and anyway, his best friend was soon to come out.

Edward McGrant (Boy #8) appeared in two minutes.

"Eddie!" the blonde boy stiffened, his blue eyes blinked.

"It's just me!"

"Oh, Arnie! You nearly gave me a heart attack!" he sighed, relieved.

The two ran southwards together.

* * *

Thomas Reed (Boy #9) cursed loudly seeing his "weapon" was merely a pepper spray, and his friend, Mark, with whom he used to skate nearly each weekend, wasn't waiting for him somewhere in the darkness. He left the danger zone as soon as possible.

Soon, Martha Miller (Girl #9), who, even for the class trip, decided to wear a white shirt and a dark skirt, walked down the three steps at the entrance, worriedly looking around, when she got scared out of her mind: suddenly a hand covered her mouth and she was dragged between two nearby bulidings.

"Shut up, Mart! It's just me, whaddaya thought?! Let's run!"

Before she could say a word, Rose German (Girl #8), her best friend, grasped her wrist tightly as they ran westwards.

* * *

Jonathan Stanley (Boy #12) walked a few metres with banging steps, then stopped.

_Now, you wouldn't think I'd believe this stupid tale about the exploding collar!_

He was perfectly sure Miss Durham was lying, and put that stupid thing on their necks just to scare them and force them to kill. As a tough, muscular guy, he really wouldn't mind fighting, it was no wonder so many kids in lower classes feared him. It wasn't rare for him to give a few slaps and punches to some silly little eight-graders if he needed money, and his acts of vandalism with Benjamin Booster (Boy #3), like making holes in car tires and breaking public telephones even attracted the police's attention. But murdering his own classmates? That was a no-no, and a big one, too. He especially wanted to find Benny, but in first place he needed to show everyone the Training was a huge lie by pulling off the collar. He searched in his bag, but, to his surprise, found only a huge, rusty nail.

_Not a great weapon, but just perfect to take this crap off my neck._

So he reached for his collar, and tried to break it off with the nail…

Mary Rogan (Girl #12), scared to death, only heard a _boom_, and saw a spray of blood coming from Jonathan's neck as his head nearly ripped away from his body…

**Boy #12 Stanley, Jonathan – Eliminated**

**29 contestants remaining**

**

* * *

**

Lily Bell (Girl #3), around the same time when Kristen met Peter, after a few minutes of sprinting, paused on the rocks to the east. A huge wall erected behind her, so she didn't fear anybody would sneak up on her. To her left, northwards, the stone reached the sea; she expected her friends to approach that way. To her right, southwards, it soon turned into sand, most likely the beginning of the southern beach.

_I wonder what kind of weapon I got?_

To her surprise, all she found was a boomerang. Not a great way to start. Anyway, while she waited, she thought she'd try if it really works. She held it vertically, as seen in documentaries, and threw it with her strong arm trained in tennis, right towards the sea. She was awaiting a splash, but instead a low buzzing indicated that it was really coming back! It hit the rock to her left, and fell to the ground.

_Wow, it works really fine! And I can pass the time while I wait, at least…_

With that, she kept on throwing it, again and again.

"Lily! Lily!" about five or six throws later Peter and Kristen finally showed up.

"Finally! I have been waiting for you!" Lily smiled, and, almost automatically, threw the boomerang again.

"So, now…" Peter stepped right in front of her.

That exact moment, the buzzing approached. A second later, Lily saw, almost in slow motion, the boomerang hitting the boy's temple, who shrieks, and falls to the ground, his head lands on a sharper stone, something cracks. Then he stays like that.

Both Kristen and Lily stared at the lying Peter, without really knowing what exactly happened. Until a dark spot began to expand under his head. Lily undersood it was blood! Kristen knelt down, and began shaking him.

"Petie! Petie! Come on, get up! Petie!"

A drop of blood fell from Peter's mouth, his green eyes gazed open to a spot somewhere around Lily's feet.

"Krissie! I…"

Kristen slowly, very slowly raised her head. A single tear fell from her right eye, her face contorted in anger and grief. Lily's eyes widened.

_This can't be happening…_

"You killed him! Killed him! And I trusted you! PETIE!" Kristen yelled, pulled out her knife and attacked Lily.

"Stop, Krissie! Stop!" the other girl grabbed her wrist, trying to hold her back.

"You killed him! Killed him! I'll kill you!"

"Krissie! I beg you! Stop! I… I didn't do it intentionally! Krissie! And maybe he's alive and…"

It was a weak, powerless attempt.

"Killed him!"

"I beg you! Stop!" Lily grasped Kristen's wrist even tighter, twisting it, trying to snatch the knife from her. Kristen stepped forward, and slipped on the blood, as Peter was lying exactly between the two girls.

Lily fell on top of her, still holding her wrist.

"I'll kill you!"

"Stop! Please! Krissie!"

They rolled over, and back again. Kristen's head ended behind Peter's, her hair becoming sticky from blood.

"I'll kill you!" and she rolled over Lily.

A _snip_ was heard, and Kristen's usually beautiful balck eyes suddenly emtpied.

"No, God, please no!" Lily looked down, and saw that the blade of the knife in her friend's twisted hand pierced into Kristen's belly.

"K… khi… ill… you…!" the dark-haired girl spat blood in Lily's face, as she weighed on her more and more.

With each millimetre, the knife penetrated her deeper and deeper. Lily wasn't grasping her wrist any more, but it made no difference: Kristen held the knife, but couldn't change its direction any more.

"Pe… thi… ie!" with a spurt, a literal flow of blood came from Kristen's mouth, as she fell on her side, right on top of Peter's body.

Lily crawled out from under her, cleaned the blood off her face, and stared at them dazed.

Two of her friends are dead.

And it was all her fault.

"No! Please, no! No, no, no, it was not me!" she screamed.

"Really? To me, it seems you were."

Lily, still sitting, turned around at the hostile voice. Susan Fletcher (Girl #7) stood at about six metres from her, with a sickle in hand.

"No, Susie, you don't understand!"

"You call us all here to win this fucking game, right?" Susan still didn't raise her voice.

It was totally out of place, but the first thought flashing through Lily's mind was just how ugly her friend was. A huge nose, sharp features, stocky build…

Stocky build. She knew that, if Susan was to jump at her, she had no chance of winning. But Susie was her friend! Even more than that, almost her personal bodyguard! If any loser or fool would dare to bother the great Lily Susie always shooed them away aggressively. Like that stupid Lindsay… _Retard, shut up and go bug someone else! Gee, what made you think you'd be invited to our party as well? _(The whole class was, by the way. Except Lindsay. Just a show about how cool they were and who wasn't.)

"It was an accident!"

"Oh, I see. Pete and Krissie are dead, you are pefectly okay, and blood everywhere. Of course! It was a fucking accident! Feed that crap to somebody else!!!"

With this, Susan raised the sickle and began to run towards Lily.

_A pistol?_ Lily turned for a second.

"You won't kill us too!" Susan was at merely three metres… two…

Lily, still sitting, pulled the Beretta 92 from Peter's belt, and pulled the trigger.

A hole appeared on Susan's forehead, and she fell backwards. A few flying drops of blood shone in the moonlight.

**Boy #5 Gayle, Peter – Eliminated**

**Girl #4 Boone, Kristen – Eliminated**

**Girl #7 Fletcher, Susan – Eliminated**

**26 contestants remaining**


	5. Meetings

**No carnage in this chapter, sorry, it's more character development ;) And I will take down from the pace, though there will still be a few deaths quite soon. And Philosopher, no Maddie yet, I'm sorry. Slight spoiler: she will be in the next chapter, though.**

* * *

Alistair Vine (Boy #13), after relaizing that his weapon, namely a Beretta 687 Silver Pigeon II hunting rifle, once assembled was most likely longer than himself, hid in the bushes near the school. Waiting. Despite being extremely short (probably even petite Darla Peterson surpassed him with more than a few centimetres), "the little Al" was a courageous boy. Even Jonathan's corpse did not scare him enough to flee. He was sweating, his glasses getting offuscated, his light red hair kept sticking to his head, while his regular, checkered shirt felt like it was suffocating him. He knew it wasn't because of the heat, or well, not only because of it. Dora Sanders (Girl #13) appeared on the steps. She was Alistair's friend, as he and Willie often played the piano for the school choir, in which she was a contralto solist. He was just about to call out for her, when she suddenly noticed Jonathan, and sped away. Al felt quite sorry, but kept on waiting. Two minutes later the tall, muscular Nick Wallace (Boy #14) stepped outside.

_He's a nice guy too…_

That exact moment, a faint crack was heard from the east. Al turned in that direction.

_Was that… a shot? No, please, not already…_

By the time he turned back, Nick had disappeared. Al did not approach Frances Swearingen (Girl #14), though he was friends with the smiley, funny girl. But, if he stayed here for such a long time, he'd wait only for his best friend. William Wosley (Boy #15) wasn't late.

"Willie!"

"Oh, hi, Al!" he waved as if his best friend waiting outside of the school in the middle of the Training was perfectly natural "ew! Who's that ground meat?"

_Okay being the class clown, but this isn't the right time for that!_

"Jonathan. Let's run!"

"Where?"

"No idea. Just come!"

They disappeared to the southeast.

* * *

Josephine (Girl #1) and Jacob Anderson (Boy #2) luckily exited right after each other, as the two last ones, and decided to try and hide on the mountain to the northwest. The twins knew that now they could only trust each other, nobody else.

* * *

Darla Peterson (Girl #10) reached the eastern rocks panting. Nobody around, only silence. She had heard the crack some time before, but she didn't really understand it was the sound of a gunshot. She laid her back against the hard wall of stone to regain her breath; Lily and the others must be on the other side waiting for her. In that case, they could wait a little longer; Belinda Sykes (Girl #15) also had yet to arrive. Inside Clan Lily, Darla was especially close to her and Becky.

_We're going to kill each other…_

The girl wiped her thick-framed glasses. The only other person who wore similar ones was William Wosley, but Darla wasn't sure they were prescription lenses; maybe the class clown just wanted to look funny and nerdy.

As a slight breeze rose up, Darla shivered. Usually, she would have loved it on hot summer days, but now, wearing only jeans reaching to her knees and a sleeveless shirt she felt it cold to the bone. She slid down to sit beside her backpack and small traveling suitcase. Really, what kind of weapon did she receive? But no, she would have never wanted to kill…

Baseball bat. Wonderful. The short, fragile and quiet Darla was really going to look scary, like Death incarnate… She sighed and placed it carefully beside her, then looked up at the starry sky. Belinda was to arrive soon, she was due to exit the school at around that time. _Waiting for you, Bel._

About ten minutes later steps were heard, and the long, dyed blonde-haired, slightly stocky Belinda Sykes appeared, in her comfortable summer training suit. On her right upper arm there had been a bandage for a couple of days now, but she told nobody about it; and, in the middle of the Training, it was the last thing Darla cared about.

"Darla! Lily…"

"She must be on the other side. I decided I'd wait for you!"

"Thanks. Oh… so that's your weapon?"

"Yeah…" Darla picked up the baseball bat with a hint of sadness "just look at yours!"

For an Ingram MAC10 machine gun was hanging on Belinda's shoulder.

"I think we should go that way…" Belinda led Darla around the large rock.

But on the other side, they couldn't see anyone. Did someone take Lily and the others out on their way there?

"Lily! Susie! Krissie! Pete! Becky!"

"Bel!"

"What?"

"Becky cried all the time!"

"Not really surprising…"

"It's not that… I think she doesn't even know Lily would wait for us here!"

"But the others… what the…?"

Belinda suddenly kicked something as she stepped in some liquid.

It was blood.

And in front of them lay a corpse.

"Susie…!" Belinda knelt down.

"Dead…!" Darla couldn't believe her eyes.

"Lily! Lily! Somebody!!!" shouted Belinda as loud as she could, but only silence answered.

"Susie… oh, Susie…" Darla also knelt down, and about ten seconds later closed her friend's blue eyes staring at the sky, her hand trembling. Susan's light brown hair was all sticky from blood.

"There… I can see somebody over there! Wait! I'm coming! Wait!" Belinda jumped up and began to run.

Peter was staring southwards, a thin trail of blood coming from his mouth. Kristen lay half beside, half on top of him, eyes closed, the handle of a knife protruding from her stomach. And there was blood everywhere.

"Aaaaaaaah!!!" at Belinda's scream, Darla got up from beside Susan, still not completely recovered, though she had taken the sickle from her. _You don't need this any more… and it doesn't suit you either, Susie…_

"Pete! Krissie!" Belinda leant over the dead bodies crying desperately, grasping and tugging at their clothes, no way, they should get up, they couldn't die…

"Pete and Krissie…" Darla's eyes widened in shock.

"Lily! And Lily! Did the murderer kill her too? Lily!"

"I… I… I don't want to know! What if he's still here! Let's run!"

"Krissie… no…" Belinda pulled the knife out, and another gush of blood flowed out.

Darla's tears were falling freely now, but she took Belinda's hand, and brought her away from those cursed rocks, towards the small port on the northeast.

* * *

**Sorry if this was short, please read and review. :)**

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	6. Hold on

**Several zones mentioned here, I still strongly recommend you to check out the map.**

**Poll added to my profile, though the result won't influence me, sorry.**

* * *

Dora Sanders (Girl #13), the contralto soloist of the school choir, sat on the sandy beach staring sadly at the stars. It was Lindsay who taught her to identify the constellations – in fact, if somebody could be called the class outcast's friend, it was her, though they had distanced from each other in the past few weeks. Mainly because Lindsay, a pretty self-confident only child, found it harder and harder to understand the pessimistic, doubtful and shy Dora, the third of five siblings, who lived her whole life in the shadow of her sister Caitlin. Cait had been a straight A+ student ever since elementary school, won a lot of prizes, and, as the first girl in the family, commanded her siblings as if they were slaves. Mostly Dora, who had been unlucky enough to go to the same school, Jefferson High, until Cait left a year before. She had been accepted at Harvard, obviously. But Dora… she was happy upon becoming a soloist, just like Cait, but was deeply disappointed and embarrassed finding that she wasn't great at foreign languages, unlike Cait.

"Dora, come on already, you're not your sister!" used to say Lindsay "try to be yourself once in a while! Cait. Is. Not. A. Goddess! Get it?! Well, she was A+ in math, okay, but did not get in the final round of the national contest, did she? You're amazing at math, physics and chemistry!"

"Leave me alone already, Linnie! I… I can't do this to Cait… I can't bring shame upon her…"

For Dora had to suffer constantly from the Spanish teacher, Miss Chavez, saying things like _But Dora, I was expecting much better from Caitlin's sister!_

Yeah… Caitlin would win the Training for sure. But Dora? The first person walking by was going to shoot or stab her in the back.

She turned around, but there was no one in sight, just a small bay watch about fifteen metres behind her. Probably she was in zone H6.

She drank a sip of water, then grasped her "weapon": a rope. What the hell was she going to do with it, use it as a lasso and strangle people?! _Give me a break..._ It was thicker than a jump rope, but not as much as those they used to climb during PE classes. Dora was a strong, athletic girl, and used to get to the ceiling in less than ten seconds, but took this as a disappointment nevertheless.

"Great!" the completely untrained Lindsay, who couldn't even hold on properly, used to jump and clap her hands whenever Dora climbed "you're amazing, truly amazing!"

_That girl is so naïve! How could she not see I'm doing it all wrong, rushing up almost as if my life was in danger…_

She was all alone. Her trained ears couldn't hear anything apart from the slight breeze and the low splashing of the waves. But it had begun, undoubtedly. By God, Jonathan… but her, Dora Sanders? Who could she team up with? Maybe Lindsay, but she had no idea where the other girl was. If they happen to meet, they can discuss it, but no, there was no such luck in her life… She was in good terms with most of the class like Maddie (_Ouaoh, Dora, c'est magnifique, ta voix!_), and Josie, and of course the pianists, Al and Willie. But she was way too withdrawn for some people to like her. The trendy girls (mostly Susan and Belinda) also laughed at her for having no style at all: she cut her hair herself, never wanting to spend money on hairdressers, causing the straight light brown locks to permanently fall flat on her back; she never even used hairclips or such to hold them up. As for her clothes, they were mostly Cait's overused and discarded ones, which she reguarly received every single year. She almost never went to buy new ones. The clothes had to be comfortable and practical, not trendy, expensive or pretty. Even now she was wearing a loose-fitting grey T-shirt which didn't suit her at all, and a pair of baggy, faded jeans.

Dora pulled her legs up, and glanced at a particularly shiny star; it was probably a planet, maybe Saturn, but the girl didn't care at the moment. The sky was gradually getting lighter and lighter on the east. She controlled her watch: half past four, at the beginning of summer it was natural. After a short while, she picked up her bags and looked up at the bay watch: quite a good place to hide…

* * *

Rebecca Chapman (Girl #6), a.k.a. Becky, really didn't notice Lily's signals, and was wandering on the southern beach as well, somehwere around zones H7 and H8.

As a weapon, she received a huge pair of scissors, and just merrily swung it around as she giggled maniacally.

_We're gonna kill each other, yay!_

She was totally caught off guard. Training? Never heard of it before! Her parents or her sister Eileen never talked about it!

_I'm gonna stab someone with these, hahaha!_

She raised the scissors; the metal reflected the slowly descending Moon's beams.

_It's nearly morning, I'm gonna see them better, hahaha!_

She had no one to team up with.

_My friends are all out to get me, hahaha!_

Becky ran to an abandoned rowing boat lying on the sand. It had a hole in the bottom, and she couldn't row 'til home anyway. She laid her back against it, and stared at the sky.

She felt herself trembling inside, as if her nerves were already giving up. She never used to be able to hold on for any significant amount of time, and wasn't very clever, but her pretty face, trendy clothes and even more trendy friends (Clan Lily) helped her gain popularity. And now? She was standing all alone on an island, with other twenty-nine (by then, only twenty-five, but she couldn't know) people, who most likely couldn't wait to kill her, while she can struggle with merely a stupid pair of scissors. But she had to get home somehow, she couldn't miss Britney's concert! Andy already had the tickets! And there was this new Brad Pitt movie she wanted to see as well… So… she'll stab somebody in the back, and take their pistol. For she was probably the only one with such a lame weapon, a pair of scissors for crying out loud! Or even better, she'll team up with someone, and then kill them. Any girl would do now… no, definitely not those damn lesbians Rose and Martha, that loser Lindsay or snobbish Madeleine, how dare she, calling her dumb! But, upon meeting and killing them, she wouldn't have any remorse.

_Stabbed with a pair of scissors, hahaha!_

She had just recently seen something like that in a TV show. On the east, she noticed a bay watch tower (according to the map, there was one in zone H8 and also H6), but didn't approach.

_Baywatch, yay!_

Swinging her pair of scissors, she went west, until she reached the other tower. She danced around smiling, then collapsed laughing beside the stairs leading up to the guard post. Maybe she was going crazy.

* * *

By the way, it was a wise decision for Becky not to get into the watch tower in zone H8, for Madeleine Beaumont (Girl #2) was already hiding there, sitting between a life preserver and two nets, holding her fully loaded Browning Hi-Power automatic pistol. She once glanced out of the window and saw a girl wandering on the sand. She recognized Becky. She absolutely hated that chick, who bugged even for not staying in France, _cause omigosh that's so romantic! We'd like to spend our honeymoon there with Andy, do you have any suggestions?_ IQ somewhere under 0, baby. But why was that girl so popular… maybe 'cause she's easy to get laid? Madeleine shook her head, ther thick black locks slapped her shoulders, the huge golden cross she wore slipped on the side. She quickly adjusted it. _Forget it…_

She tightly grasped the fancy, carved cross. She would have never wanted to kill…

But staying here all along… that wasn't right. She looked outside, but saw no one, even Becky was gone. Just fine.

She walked down the steps in the light of the rising sun, her yellow silk skirt was slightly moved by the wind. Rocks on the east, better leave them; she went to the west, maybe she'd spend some time in the other bay watch tower as well.

At around half past five she entered zone H6, and didn't see or hear anyone until then…

"Aaaaaaaaaah!!!"

A high-pitched scream came from the tower! Is someone being killed inside there?! Madeleine's first thought was running away, but in the end she grasped her Browning tightly, threw her bags on the ground and ran up the stairs. She didn't want to "play", but she had heard the gunshot previously, and didn't come to America to die in such a stupid way…

A horrible sight welcomed her.

Dora was hanging from a ceiling beam with her eyes turned out, a beach chair kicked over beside her; Becky, meanwhile, screamed hysterically swinging a huge pair of scissors.

"_Bécky! Qu'est que tu fais?!_ What the 'ell arhe you doing?!"

"Taking Dora doooown!!! Can't you see she's stuuuuck…?"

"Arhe you crhazy?! She's dead!"

Madeleine froze. She had said it. She liked Dora, with her lovely, pure voice… how could she have given up? Maybe… it was Becky… no way.

Dora Sanders hung herself…

"Hey… Maddie…" Becky stopped and grinned "let's team up!"

_Is she stupid or what?!_

"Um, no thanks… Bécky…"

"Snob!" shouted Becky and ran at her. _I could take her gun!_

Madeleine turned the browning on her and fired twice. Two holes appeared on Becky's light green top, as she fell sideways in a slowly extending pool of blood; Clan Lily had halved.

Madeleine stood on her toes (she was one of the tallest girls in class, only Mary and, of course, Rose surpassed her), and carefully took Dora down. No way to revive her any more. A few teardrops fell on the solist's pale face as Madeleine closed her eyes, dragged her to a net on the corner and laid her there. Then she took two bottles of water from the two girls' packs (very important now!).

_The shots may attract some fools!_

Madeleine made the sign of the cross, and ran down to the beach without even throwing a second glance at Becky. There she picked up her two bags and ran off.

**Girl #6 Chapman, Rebecca – Eliminated**

**Girl #13 Sanders, Dora – Eliminated**

**24 contestants remaining**

**

* * *

Maddie's two French sentences here mean, in order: "Wow, Dora, your voice is amazing!" and "What are you doing?!"**


	7. Morning light

**Massive character development, and 1 death, please bear with me. Now the map is getting really important; don't forget to tell me your opinion about the characters, and maybe vote in the poll.**

* * *

Benjamin Booster (Boy #3) wasn't famous for his brains, but rather for talking abour sex all the time, and thinking women were all crazy over him despite his not really handsome appearance. He had huge stuck out ears, pimples, uneven, yellowish teeth and wore glasses, but didn't seem to mind. Until then, he hid in some bushes at the bottom of the mountain, in zone B6, but now that the sun had risen, he could finally read the manual to his weapon (for using a flashlight in total darkness in the middle of a game like this wasn't a very clever thing, something that even he could figure out). An AK-47, a Kalashnikov, wow, now that was really awesome! He could let out single shots or even a series, hmm…

Just when he was wondering who would be the honoured one on whom the mighty Benjamin Booster would try out his gun, Miss Durham's voice was heard. He couldn't see the source, but the sound was clear and easy to understand.

"Greetings to my dear 10./C! Wow, I see you've really gotten into it! Now, let's see the list of your beloved classmates who, unfortunately, are no longer with us! Boys: number five, Peter Gayle; number twelve, Jonathan Stanley. Girls: number four, Kristen Boone; number six, Rebecca Chapman; number seven, Susan Fletcher; number thirteen, Dora Sanders. Girls, don't give up, get yourselves together already! And now the danger zones: from seven AM, E2; from nine, E12; from eleven, D2. See you later!"

Benjamin smiled. Fine, no danger zones near him. He took out the class roster he got with the map, and crossed out the six names without any emotion. Jon… he used to be his friend, but heck, only one person can win! And that was going to be him, Benjamin Booster, the pride of the nation. Though he wasn't particularly good at anything, if not at graffiti, destruction of public property, playing StarCraft and winning drinking contests, Benjamin took himself as a particularly gifted and special person. Well, of course he would leave the Training, if possible, but now he decided he'd play to win. And with such a wonderful weapon…! Yes, it seemed apparent that he was the one destined to make it out alive. He quickly ran through the list of the dead ones… Aw, were Pete and Kris busy with THAT, when someone surprised them? Not out of the question. Benjamin licked his lips. Yeah, upon running into one of the hot chicks, he wouldn't kill them immediately… like, there's Madeleine Beaumont (Girl #2)… aw, doing it the first time with such a beauty! (Yes, Benjamin was still a virgin!) Then there's Becky… no, not any more, and that cute blondie Martha Miller (Girl #9), and not to forget Lily Bell (Girl #3)! Oh, and there's Lindsay Carter (Girl #5) too, just imagine, raping that loser! Lindsay had a pretty face, after all. Not as beautiful as Madeleine's, but definitely cute, epecially with her big deep brown eyes; too bad very few people noticed the class outcast.  
(He obviously didn't take into account the girls' personalities. Like that Maddie would most likely rip his balls off before letting him touch her, Lily wasn't a weakling either, and Girl #8, Rose "Rory" German would punch him to death if he got anywhere near Martha, so the only easier option would have seemed to be poor Lindsay.)  
To be completely honest, on sleepless nights Benjamin often fantasized also about the sporty, strong, though definitely not beautiful, but undoubtedly charismatic Miss Durham. To say it more clearly: he already knew what kind of extra prize he'd ask for once stepping onto the red carpet as the pride of the nation.

His thoughts suddenly ended, when he heard a noise from the forest. _Finally, I could try this beauty out!_

But what if it was just a bird or a squirrel? He concentrated, and heard a slight crack. Somebody must have stepped on a small branch! He immediately picked up the Kalashnikov, and shot a series aiming downwards, maybe he'd get the leg of a pretty chick, and then it would be very, very easy…

He then walked to the trees, to see who it was, when he heard a tap, and felt something hit his forehead.

Then nothing any more.

**Boy #3 Booster, Benjamin – Eliminated**

**23 contestants remaining**

* * *

Daniel Scovell (Boy #10), dragging his injured right leg, tried in vain to run among the trees. Judging from the height, he thought the mysterious person he saw to be Nick or Gabriel, both nice guys, but no, it was Benjamin! He didn't do anything, and he instantly shot at him! A bullet ran through his leg right above his ankle, the wound was strongly bleeding. He stopped after ten minutes – he was advancing so slow that he didn't even get out of zone B6, Benjamin's body was lying less than 100 metres away from him. He took a napkin out of his bag, poured a little water on it, and cleaned his wound. The few band-aids he brought with him would never be enough… Then, he thanked the heavens for having the quirk of wearing a tie, always. Nobody joked about it any more, it was his definite trademark. Even on the class trip, he came in a light blue shirt, dark trousers and, of course, a striped tie. He took it off and wrapped it around his ankle tightly. Still not enough, not for long anyway. Daniel knew there was a clinic in zone D6, at least according to the map. He aimed for that direction, though his pace was getting slower and slower. His leg hurt very badly; he hoped he would be able to get there. It wasn't mainly the physical pain that hurt him the most, rather the thought that he had killed. He had killed one of his classmates. He didn't like Benjamin, but they were peacefully going on their own way without bothering about each other; and anyway, he used to be a sweet, kind boy, who would never hurt a fly… but now, there was no turning back. He looked at the now unloaded crossbow hanging in his hand. They're only in twenty-three now! And then, where could his best friend be? _Lindsay, Linnie, please, don't get yourself killed!_

After half an hour he realized he wouldn't last till the clinic, he was going so slowly. He sat under a tree, cleaned his wound again, and wrapped one of the T-shirts from his own bag around it. He decided to rest a little, as he spotted a two-story house not too far to reach.

* * *

Rose German (Girl #8), usually called "Rory" or even "the great Rory", blew out the smoke, and looked at Martha Miller's (Girl #9) lying figure in the dim light entering the church's (zone E7) windows. In the adjoining sacristy she had found a few covers, her friend was now wrapped in one, dozing lightly, only her long, silky blonde hair was visible. Beside her lay a blunt poker; a serious weapon, really… still nothing compared to the _table-tennis racket_ Rose got, though perhaps she would be able to kill even with that, as many would be ready to swear, like the boy she had beaten up a year ago (risking an expulsion from Jefferson High). Rose, despite being a girl, was most likely one of the strongest students not only in the class, but even the whole school. At only sixteen years of age, her height surpassed 185 centimetres, she had been practicing sports since she was three, later got into karate, in which she had already reached the brown belt; only a small step separated her from the black one. They had been neighbours with Martha for very long, and their friendship was without compare. The boy mentioned earlier got beaten up for insulting her, too. Even though the name "Rose" usually invokes cute little blonde girls, Miss German was anything but that. In addition to her nearly scary height, there was her bright red, nearly crimson hair usually held tightly back by a golden clip, dark poison green eyes, muscular body… without, of course, forgetting the shades she never took off (though now she pushed them back on her forehead) and her boyish clothes. Her torn jeans, baggy green T-shirt and many-pocketed denim vest (she needed a place to keep her pocket knife, lighter and cigarettes, after all) perfectly completed her image. Taking all this into account, her friendship with Martha seemed even more surprising. For Martha was a shy, soft-spoken, angelic straight A+ student (Rose, Miss Durham's favourite, was good only at PE), who always seemed a little sleepy due to her small brown eyes hidden behind her cute, round glasses. Her clothing used to be always flawless, like now: white shirt, dark blue skirt, white socks and dark blue patent-shoes. Perfect. As a "sport", she practiced ballet, and used to play the violin as a main hobby.

Rose put out the cigarette on the stone flooring (they found shelter between the first seats and the altar), and took out another one. At least they're together with Martha…

"Poor Dora… and everyone else…" sighed Martha suddenly.

"Mart…!" it was only Rose to call her by that nickname "I thought you were sleeping!"

"No, Rory, I woke up to the news… I'm just resting…"

"We're not in a danger zone yet."

"Fine then" Martha didn't even turn around "aren't you sleepy?"

"Not at all."

Martha looked at the fresco on the wall.

"Rory, you don't believe in God, do you?"

"Not really…" she shook her head.

She knew Martha was a faithful Catholic, going to church nearly each Sunday, but this was something that could never threaten their friendship.

"I'm scared, Rory."

"I'm by your side, Mart. I'll watch over you."


	8. Just play

**Sorry about the slow pace from now on, the carnage is slowing down on the first morning. Hope h wellyou like it! Sorry if it's short (but, my dear Zizzi, here goes your favourite part!), the next chapters are longer, and didn't want to throw it all on you at once :)**

* * *

"Willie, will you stop already? Someone will hear you!" Alistair Vine (Boy #13) looked nervously at William Wosley (boy #15), who was busy with the piano.

"Not through the closed windows, Al, and if so, you will shoot them dead! Only except if they say it's wonderful and they wanna dance, of course!"

"Willie! This isn't funny!"

Willie almost carelessly wiped his glasses (which had no prescription lenses, Darla was right) in his astonishingly ugly hawaii-patterned T-shirt, struck a very deep sound, and stood up.

"Listen, you've got a gun. I can't shock people with this from afar!" he pointed at his taser lying on the piano.

"You speak easily!" Al grasped the Silver Pigeon, which they assembled not long before, and it was really about his height "well, okay, this isn't very heavy, though it's huge…"

"See? Now, artists are the most productive during crisis, so let me etch my name forever in the history of music! As for you, go hunt merrily!"

"Willie! Did you even understand we will have to kill our own classmates?! And no thanks, I don't wanna hunt down my friends!"

"Then go and guard us from the rooftop terrace, no idea here! If you see someone, duck and come down to tell me, we'll be prepared! Calm down, Al… I wasn't really serious! We are quite safe here, at least for a while."

Really, they hid in a richly furnished house of the west angle of zone G10, where there was a piano, a roof terrace with a telescope, tapestries, two bathrooms, a gigantic garden with a well, firewood in a shed – basically, all they needed. Also, the kitchen cupboard was full of preserved food and bags of soup.

"Could you at least stop playing?"

"Excuse me, but can you hear it outside?"

The piano was situated in the middle of the largest room of the ground floor, the one with so many decorations (paintings, baroque tables, a sofa, two armschairs, three bookshelves and a Persian rug) that it nearly seemed disgusting.

Al walked outside shivering: no, he couldn't hear Willie playing. Maybe only if someone walking very close was paying attention to really that, but there was little chance. The garden and the iron fence protected them from afar.

When they ran away from the school, Willie couldn't stop chattering about how to blow up Miss Durham and her companinons, until Al told him categorically to shut up. In the end, he did so, and upon reaching their current hiding place, he broke one of the rear windows hidden by a tree and some shrubs (so it wasn't very noticeable), climbed inside, and let Al in through the front door.

Al closed his eyes as he leant against the wall, still clutching his shotgun, with Willie's music resounding in his ears.

* * *

Lily raised her head at the news, and began running again. She had been running almost all along ever since the tragic events of the night. She must have stopped somewhere around zone A8, but got up again. Her long, dark blonde hair fell loose out of her usual high ponytail, her gray eyes were red from crying. The three names of her friends, the three she had killed, kept on buzzing in her head, again and again and again… the only thing she took was Peter's Beretta (she left all the backpacks and everything else on the rocks), but no, she didn't want to kill… oh, Becky… her friends, her friends…!

She must have been running for more than half an hour when she suddenly tripped over something and fell. Maybe a tree trunk?

It wasn't a tree trunk. But a dead body.

Benjamin Booster (Boy #3) lay on his back, an arrow sticking out of his forehead. It was a horrible sight…

But the thing that surprised Lily the most was the huge Kalashnikove lying beside him, along with his backpack. Why didn't the killer take them? Is… is the killer still around? All she could hear was the slight breeze. Lily looked around, then hung the Beretta on her glittery belt, and picked up the AK-47 along with Benjamin's backpack.

* * *

Frances Swearingen (Girl #14), a.k.a. Fran, lay prone in zone D4, near the peak of the mountain. She kept on exploring the island with her pair of binoculars – actually, the "weapon" she received.

_Well, at least I can guess if they're pointing at me…_

Glancing southwards she suddenly spotted the first person she saw since her departure. It was a girl, she recognized her immediately from her long, bright red summer dress. It was Hannah Poulston (Girl #11), in zone E4, crouching between some bushes. Fran stood up and decided to go and get her, one of her group of best friends. At least she had been lucky to spot Hannah; but what about the other two, Maddie and Mary?

Hannah had spent all the time since her departure sitting there, holding her huge axe close, and shaking like a leaf. _They're gonna kill me!_

She was too afraid even to wait for Mary Rogan (Girl #12)! She was scared to death, her lipstick smeared all over her cheeks (her friends in vain tried to tell her that she was far prettier without make-up, but she couldn't believe it, as someone with glasses could not be beautiful, in her view), the golden medallion representing her star sign (Pisces) slipped to the side, her skirt had tears, her straight ebony black hair got all messy.

"Hannah!" she heard a voice.

"Aaah!" she raised the axe.

"Hannah! It's just me, and don't scream!"

"F-frannie?"

"Well, yeah!" Fran's eyebrow twitched (the funniest girl had this similar quirk to Willie the class clown) as she opened her arms, holding only the binoculars "I'm not planning to whack one of my best friends to death with _these_!"

"Where's Mary? And Maddie?"

"No clue. You're the first I see, thank God it's you!"

Then Fran sat down beside Hannah, and playfully adjusted her blonde hair in a ponytail. No matter the situation, her eyes were still shining.

"So, an axe and a pair of binoculars, huh?"


	9. Chance happenings

**Sorry, some introduction was needed... anyhow, I swapped some chapters around and here goes a quite action-packed one; I included one of the most spectacular deaths, in my opinion. Read and review! Oh, and don't forget the poll! (Won't take any more dead ones out, as, though they're gone, they can still be your faves. It's not a "who should win?" poll, as I already know.**

* * *

Josephine Anderson (Girl #1) and her brother, Jacob Anderson (Boy #2), three minutes younger, wandered around the bottom of the mountain, probably in zone B3. They heard gunshots several times, but they weren't foolish enough to go in their direction – they would have never wanted to become victims this fast. As for the weapons, Josie got a pickaxe, and Jacob two hand grenades.

"We've gotta kill" said the boy after a while "if I see anyone, I'm gonna throw one of these…"

"Yes… but Jay…" Josie sighed "if only one can survive… but… we cannot escape!"

"We are in _two._"

"Maybe… we'll find a solution…"

Sure, being twins, they have spent their entire lives together, it was simply unconceivable for them to continue on separate ways. Despite having radically different personalities, they belonged together forever.

The usually dominating Josie looked scared and was slightly shivering, while the usually shy and withdrawn Jacob had a strange, out of character glint in his eyes.

* * *

The sunbeams tickled Lindsay Carter's (Girl #5) closed eyelids, by then also through the slight openings of the shutters. She turned around, groaning, and pulled the pillow over her head. In the end she gave up, stirred and opened her eyes, still quite dazed. Though she slept for quite some time, and wasn't too sleepy any more, she needed a few minutes to wake up completely. She looked at her watch with half-lidded eyes. Nearly 7 AM… aw, sheesh, was she late for school again? A moment later, she realized this wasn't her room. Moreover, not even their apartment. What the hell? Suddenly everything came to her mind: Miss Durham, the Training… she would have screamed, but her throat contracted in fear. 7 AM! She slept through the news! What if she is hiding in a danger zone?! What if… the clock strikes 7 and she _BANG!_ blows up?!

_Okay, okay, calm down, Linnie, calm down…_

With shaky hands, she picked up her elastics, and put her shoulder-lenght dark brown hair back in the usual two low ponytails. She then looked out of the window through the shutters, and came to the conclusion she was probably in the southern part of zone C6, judging from the mountain nearby and the small lake shining in the distance.

_Am I gonna blow up?! But I'm only sixteen! I can't die!!!_

She finally looked at her "weapon", and realized that, though she wasn't going to blow up, she was bound to die very soon anyway. For in her backpack she found a small palmtop of about 15×10 centimetres, on which pale green screen background there were small red dots to mark collars, or people. Her dot was right in the middle – and another one horribly close to it! Somebody was getting near, but Lindsay didn't dare to look out again. It didn't matter who it was: everyone was probably pretty keen to slaughter _her_, the class outcast. Then her blood froze… she heard the dog door slamming. No more time left… she quickly threw her two bags in the wardrobe, and slid under the bed clutching her palmtop.

The other dot didn't seem to hurry too much. It walked around slowly on the ground floor. Lindsay tried to control her shaking… but as she heard the steps of the staircase creaking, her heartbeat nearly stopped. _No, please, no…_

The creaking was agonizingly slow, as if the mysterious person paused a little on each single step. In Lindsay's mind, only one question echoed.

_Why? Why am I an outcast?_

She wasn't an evil person. She was cheerful, smiley, maybe a little too optimistic, and of course, that wasn't "cool". Also, her talkativeness and straightforward manners made her seem somewhat eccentric… which wasn't "cool" either. Her best friend, Kelly, from another school, didn't seem to mind, however… but Lily, the great Lily? Oh, she did for sure. _Now, look, that's a loser! Or maybe two, haha!_ She laughed at her and Dora. And the boys? They were too busy drooling after Maddie or trying to get peeks of Lily's body as she seductively shook her hips in extremely revealing clothes to notice that she even existed. Then George, who joined 10./C only a year before, noticed… but in a negative way. _Retard, alien, fool, idiot_ were some of the more gentle names they used to address her. They didn't even care of the fact she had a pretty face. Who cares about someone officially declared by Lily and her gang to be mentally handicapped, however pretty they might be?

The creaking stopped; the other person must have reached the second floor.

_Please, please, just don't come to this room…_

But Lindsay's hope was gone as the door opened, and she saw a pair of shoes. It was probably a boy, but she couldn't decide which. One of the white trainers was spotted with some red liquid and the person seemed to be limping; in the end he threw himself onto the bed, so even the shoes were out of Lindsay's sight.

_I'm dead… I can't just stay here motionless, if he doesn't leave!_

The next moment she saw something that made her forget everything, including the mysterious enemy, the Training, and the whole situation: a huge spider crawling on her leg! Her arachnophobia had the best of her.

"AAAAAH!!! Getoffgetoffgetoff!!!"

"Ah!" the boy gasped; this wasn't enough to identify him, though. Lindsay kicked the spider off eventually, but who cares, she was dead any moment now…

"Linnie? Is this… real? You… is that really you?" but the boy recognized her.

By then, even Lindsay realized who was the other dot on the screen. She looked out from under the bed.

"Danny!"

Daniel Scovell (Boy #10), her best friend, looked down at her smiling confusedly.

* * *

Mark Hawkes (Boy #6), who had a thing for vampire-themed books, carefully walked out of the dead end he had been hiding into since the beginning. His pale blonde hair was a complete mess, as he had literally run through some bushes as he fled from the school, and he had even lost his favourite circular pin with _I want to suck your BLOOD_ written on it, but he couldn't care less. He grasped tightly the forked harpoon he received as a weapon, and looked around. He wasn't willing to crouch between two houses all the time, then maybe someone with a gun passes by and shoots him, goodbye, he didn't even take part in the Training. No way!

He saw the church to the east, the golden cross on the top shone in the sunlight. The school was visible a little farther away; it looked as some sort of barracks, and with the barred windows, nearly like a prison. Mark would have hated to go to this school as a resident of the island, that was for sure.

His greatest wish at the moment was to go home, eat some steak, go out skating with Tom, then get hooked on the computer with his favourite vampire-hunting game, and in the end read a little _Dracula_, or the _Hellsing_ manga he had recently bought and found pretty intriguing. Now _that_ would be an ideal day… he sighed. Training. Weapon. Harpoon. As he slowly proceeded eastwards, he thought about Tom. He really should have waited for him… but it was too late, it didn't matter any more. His friend's name wasn't among the dead ones, so he probably was still alive, and maybe even looking for him. He remembered Tom's contagious smile, his green eyes which always shone of happiness and self-confidence… truly the idol of the girls who used to hang around the skating grounds, and Mark was pretty sure he took advantage of it, though his friend never said anything about it.

_I. Wanna. Go. Skating!_

Sadly, they both left their skateboards at home. But even that would be better than this ridiculous harpoon, useful for knocking people off…

…_what am I thinking?!_

Mark suddenly noticed that his thoughts were constantly turning to elaborating different methods to kill his classmates. The six dead so far (six! Six for crying out loud, in less than three hours! And there were gunshots heard even later!) showed quite openly that everyone else, or well, more than one person, was playing actively. And he, Mark Hawkes, should stay out?

…_no._

His gaze hardened, his fingers went white as his grip tightened on the harpoon. No mercy, apart from Tom, of course. He was going to _kill_… like the vampire hunters. Now he's the hunter, and all the others are vampires. Maybe he'll get a better weapon, then he'll find his best friend and they'll escape together…

At this point, he found himself right in front of the church. Is it empty? Or maybe somebody's already hiding there? He took a peek inside, then his sneakers creaked on the wooden floor covering the small entrance. Two figures rose from the ground as he entered…

"Mart, down!"

"Rory!"

"Sheesh!" Rose hit her friend's back, and she fell "sorry, but what if he has a gun?"

"Girls… you okay?" asked Mark silently, as he stepped onto the stone flooring, past the entrance-hall.

"Stop playing the good boy!" Rose stood to her full height, with the table-tennis racket in one hand, a rather short cigarette hanging from her mouth.

_Harpoon, hm? Not bad… he might be really dangerous._

"I really don't wanna hurt you two…"

_If they had anything like that, they would have shot me dead already. Table-tennis racket? Pathetic. Rory's legend ends here, baby. She might be strong, but with a harpoon stuck in her heart…_

Mark got nearer between the seats, lowering his harpoon. Martha got to her feet as well, and walked towards him a little scared, holding her poker.

"I don't believe you" Rose threw the stub away.

_Well, you do well. Last good thing in your life, Rory…_

"But I really don't wanna hurt you!"

The two girls and the boy were getting nearer and nearer to each other, step by step, until Martha suddenly passed beside Rose to get in front of Mark. He just nodded slightly.

"Rory, I really think he's a good one! Not an enemy!" she turned around.

This slight second was more than enough; the harpoon pierced deeply her right shoulder (luckily she had turned around, otherwise it would have hit her chest fully).

"Aaah!" Martha fell, bleeding profusely.

Mark pulled the harpoon out, and was about to strike again, when Rose kicked his weapon out of his hand.

"Murderer!" her voice sounded like thunder as she jumped on top of him.

_How dare he hurt Martha?!_

"Rory…! Rory…!" Martha clutched her bleeding shoulder, lying on the floor.

Mark looked up at Rose with gritted teeth.

_Who cares about karate, she's still a girl after all!_

With this, he punched both Rose's breasts with all his strenght. She hissed in pain, but didn't give up: she struck his forehead with the table-tennis racket. Something cracked, but not Mark's head, though a bleeding wound opened on it. Rose hit him again, right on his nose, and this time two cracks were heard. Blood began to flow from Mark's broken nose, while also the racket fell apart, leaving only the sharp, pointy handle in the girl's hands.

_No way… no… aah, my nose…_

These were Mark's last clear thoughts, then only fear remained, as he saw Rose rising the handle high…

She brought it down, and planted it into Mark's heart with one strong, fast movement. The boy's body jerked once, before becoming motionless.

Rose panted raggedly as blood spurted on her face. Her poison green eyes widened like saucers.

"Mart…!"

"Rory…!"

She quickly wiped the blood from her cheeks and ran to her best friend.

"You okay?" her voice was slightly shaking.

They both went white as sheets.

"Anything in your bag…?"

Martha nodded as her eyes filled with tears.

Rose quickly searched for the first-aid kit, and hurriedly bandaged Martha's shoulder.

"Thank you…" whispered the blonde girl.

"Not enough… let's go! There is a clinic… I think I have seen it on the map…"

She threw the harpoon in her bag, then grasped Martha's wrist.

"Wait!" her friend freed herself "our bags!"

Even in danger, she paid attention to every single particular.

"All right!" Rose quickly divided the bottles of water and the bread taken from Mark's backpack between their ones.

Then they ran outside, Rose dragging Martha, both still shocked, but their life instincts getting the better of them.

The sunlight reached Mark's corpse. The vampire lover got stabbed in the heart with a wooden stake – inside a church.

**Boy #6 Hawkes, Mark - Eliminated**

**22 contestants remaining**


	10. Fear

**Thanks a lot for staying with me! Now all the characters have been introduced, and action will follow. With 30 kids, the story isn't that long - but the characters have to be well defined. Enjoy! Poll open. :)**

* * *

Michael Spencer (Boy #11) squatted among the bushes in zone C10, fearing any of his classmates was ready to shoot him; he used to be a very withdrawn, silent boy, despite being the star player of Jefferson High's soccer team. Around the beginning of the game, he neared the rocks on the east and heard a shot very close to him, which scared him even more. Grasping his Colt Single Action Army revolver, he finally stood up and looked around. Suddenly a human figure appeared, only as a shadow. He didn't care, scared as he was: he cocked the hammer (succeeding only after a few seconds, his fingers were shaking), and shot, but missed. The mysterious person then disappeared to the southwest. Michael waited a while, then walked away, finally finding shelter in a neglected, abandoned small house in the middle of a weed infested garden, in zone C8.

* * *

Thomas Reed (Boy #9) kept on running, confused. Why the hell did Michael shoot at him?! They were friends, damn it! The bullet burnt his left shoulder, but luckily not too much. And what the hell was he going to do with that stupid pepper spray?! But most of all, he was cursing his skater friend Mark for not waiting for him! Or was he too lost in his stupid daydreams about vampires?! Or maybe fearing them in the night?! But if Michael was playing such happily, there was no guarantee Mark was not going to kill him (and maybe drink his blood…). Of course he couldn't know Mark was already lying dead in the church with a wooden stake through his heart.

After all, he could spray somebody and steal their weapon. Not a bad plan, he could do it even with a hostile Mark. Just a swift push, a spray, and the enemy goes in a daze, maybe even loses his eyesight… he grinned. But even this evil grin somehow seemed bright as Tom's vivid green eyes shone. He used to be extremely popular among the girls who occasionally showed up around the skating grounds… and he took advantage of it, being much more skilled in the acrobatic evolutions than Mark, or so he thought. He needed to hide to gather his thoughts. He glanced at the houses to the west as he stopped.

* * *

Mary Rogan (Girl #12) could still see Jonathan Stanley's horrible death, and the sound of the gunshots still echoed in her ears. No doubt, her classmates are all merrily murdering each other, how many of them could be added to Maddie's, Fran's or Hannah's body count? Mary, generally sober, calm and mature, completely turned inside out, she couldn't trust anybody any more. Maybe… that one boy! That lovely, kind, strong boy!

Then again, what about this stupid weapon, a sword! These weren't the Middle Ages! When she took the backpack, it was pretty heavy and something seemed to be sticking out of its side. Anyway, Mary could hold it quite steadily.

"Ow!" her long, light brown hair suddenly got caught in a branch, and her elastic ripped out if it. Zone A9, in the middle of the forest.

As she rubbed her sore head where quite a lot of hair had been torn out, she heard something crack behind her.

"Who's there?" she rose the sword with both hands.

"Mary, Mary dear! Stop, please!" Nicholas Wallace (Boy #14), the muscular sportsman stepped out, his shoulder-lenght straight blond hair a little messy.

"Nick… N-Nicky…?!" Mary couldn't believe her eyes.

_Him? Him? Nicky… Nicky… Oh, thank goodness! Nicky!_

"Yes, it's just me!"

"Oh, Nicky!" Mary threw herself in his arms without ceremonies.

In the months before, there was a gossip of them having something, though only Mary showed her feelings openly; the boy never reacted.

But now Nick, the tallest boy in class, lowered his head and kissed Mary passionately.

"Great sword!"

"Thanks…" Mary was melting away "and… and yours…?"

"This" Nick showed up a bowling ball.

"Um…"

"Nothing to do with this one, eh?"

They sat under the bushes embracing each other.

"Mary?"

"Yes?"

"Are you… playing?"

"No idea."

"Do you trust me?"

She didn't answer; her hands were still grasping the sword tightly.

"So you don't."

"Oh Nicky, no! I don't know! Now I do… but…"

"I see" he smiled and nodded.

They were to stay together now, no matter what.

* * *

George Adams (Boy #1), seeing the sword and the bowling ball, found it safer to retreat. He looked at the bottle with H2SO4 (sulfuric acid) written on it; no use of _that_ for now. Of course he didn't skip the chemistry classes, he knew sulfuric acid was a cruel and deadly mixture, but it was totally impossible to just sneak up on Mary and Nick and spill it over them. He snuck out of the forest, then stood up proudly. George Adams, the trendy boy. George Adams, the oldest one in the class. George Adams… _Lily Bell's boyfriend_! He walked with fast, steady steps across the streets, going for the southwest. Nobody would dare attack _him_. If some silly chicks like Becky or losers like Dora died, it was their fault. He felt a little sorry for Peter, but not enough to shed as much as a single tear. Now, the only ones who _might_ try to kill him were the losers, like Lindsay for calling her a retard. Childish, stupid girl; she couldn't even shoot him from a metre away. But what if he runs into Lily? Fun will be granted. He grinned and walked a little faster. He saw no one around.

* * *

But someone did notice him: Gabriel Donaghy (Boy #4) the somewhat girly-faced pretty boy, with cold green eyes and wavy golden locks of hair. He caught a glimpse of George from a first floor window of a house in zone D8.

He didn't attack, not that he could with the crowbar he received.

He slid down to the floor, his back against the wall of the bedroom. The best looking boy in class, the tenor soloist of the choir (Daniel didn't get a solo because of him) was scared. Dora, often his partner in duets, was no more… Peter, with whom he used to go to sports events, was dead too… And what was he going to do with that single crowbar? Not that he wanted to kill or hurt anyone. Gabriel's cured apperance and attention to tidiness was rare among boys; he was also trying to be kind with everyone. All this helped a lot in guaranteeing his incredible popularity and success among the girls. When the wonderful soloist isn't a proud, conceited jerk, but such a friendly, warm-hearted boy, who right after the productions runs to audience to hold high his six year-old sister, Marion, asking her how did she like his singing…

He lowered his head as a few tears ran down his pale cheeks. He hated Miss Durham and her stupid Training…

It had to be around half past eight in the morning. Gabriel took a síp of water, and was just munching on some bread when his blood froze: a crash was heard from the ground floor, as if someone had broken a window! He himself had entered forcing the small back door open with the crowbar (at least he could put it to use), but barricated it from the inside. He put the food down and picked up his weapon; his fingers turned white.

Steps were heard, then the staircase began creaking. Gabriel couldn't run. The door of the bedroom opened slowly… Gabriel stood ready. Maybe they could talk about it, oh please, no…

Thomas Reed (Boy #9) obviously wasn't of the same opinion: as he saw the other boy, he immediately sprayed the pepper spray in his face.

"Aaaah!" Gabriel could hardly see, and he felt as if his cheeks had been set on fire. He could somehow catch a glimpse of Tom's head, though, and hit it with all his force. Then darkness engulfed him, and he fell to the floor unconscious.

* * *

"Arnie, what's taking so long?! Don't bother about your fireworks this time, okay?!"

"Hmm, but there are some really nice small New Year's Eve petards here, and… oh, okay!" Arnold Ledger (Boy #7) had been in the shop of zone G8 for quite a while now, while his best friend Edward McGrant (Boy #8) stood on guard outside.

"Here" he finally exited "here's a knife and a manual hedge trimmer, you can give me back my gun now."

Eddie nodded and handed back the Sig Sauer.

Arnie knelt down and put in his bag a new bottle of water, some coke, chips, cookies, some cans of food, bags of soup, several boxes of matches (Eddie rolled his eyes, but preferred not to comment) and even a few bars of chocolate.

"These sure aren't rotting yet."

He had hidden a large bag of pepper in his pocket, though; the slightly pyromaniac firework-lover had a plan.

"We can come back here later. Now, let's hide, maybe there" and he shot out the lock on a door.


	11. Violence erupts

**To my readers: I know several characters weren't really "introduced", but I wanted them to appear at least once, even if very briefly before they die/do something very important.**

* * *

"Both Pete and Krissie lie there… and Susie, too…" sighed Darla, as she and Belinda crossed zone E12 on their map. Currently, in the small port in zone B11, they were relatively safe. Though they didn't find food or water, as no one lived there, it was an ideal spot to hide. There was little chance of enemies coming from too many directions, and Belinda's Ingram was a winner weapon in the Training. There were a few small boats floating on the water, on the side of one of them, quite sadly, they could clearly see the name _Krissie_.

Becky's death shocked Darla the most, as they had known each other since elementary school. The small, silent girl burst into tears intermittently, sometimes staying quiet for a while, then holding on to Belinda trying to control her sobs.

"Someone will pay for this!" Belinda raised her gun with one hand, and caressed Darla's head with the other.

"Thanks for being here…" Darla wiped her eyes, and accidentally touched the bandage on Belinda's shoulder "oh! Sorry! Does it hurt…? What… what happened to your arm, really?"

Belinda smiled a little forcedly, then took the bandage off.

"I could have taken it off some time ago, but I thought I'd show it off on the class trip, when we'd be on the lakeshore in bikini… I almost forgot about it."

On her shoulder, there was a large tattoo of a black rose.

"Darla, you know it's my favourite flower… the rose is the symbol of life and love, but if it's black…" Belinda grinned towards her Ingram.

Darla at first couldn't say a word from astonishment.

"But… what did your parents say?"

"Oh, forgot to mention _that _too, eh?"

Belinda used to cope with her problems alone, while Darla usually got over them by talking about them with her friends.

"What's the matter, Bel?"

"My parents are so occupied with their divorce and arguing over every little thing but me, that they didn't even notice I left, let alone when I returned home!"

"What?! But Bel! They've been married for nearly 20 years and…"

"Darla, where the hell do you live?! Yes, they're divorcing! And always argue about our two apartments and the money, I am nothing but a secondary little problem!"

Darla lived in a happy family with both her parents and her sister, and so far thought the Sykes family spent its days in perfect harmony as well, with Belinda as the only child. She didn't even notice that in the last few months her friend never wanted to make a girls' night at theirs.

_I'm such a selfish person!_

She hugged Belinda.

"Hey, stop having pity of me! Oh… well, okay. I'm glad you're here for me, uh."

They looked at the endless sea, and soon their thoughts went back to Lily. Where could the strong, determined leader be? She might be wandering alone, wounded and scared!

* * *

"Arnie, may I take a nap?" Edward McGrant (Boy #8) lay on a bed yawning.

"Just sleep, I'm not tired anyway… and I'll be on guard."

"And I have these…" Eddie pointed at the knife and the gardening scissors on the bedside table.

Arnie nodded and left the room. Ten minutes later he took a peek inside, and noticed his best friend was already sleeping peacefully.

_Arnie, forget about your fireworks already!_

_Sorry, but I can't. They can even be useful now…_

Then, slowly and cautiously, knowing he had not much time, and some "eager player" could pass by at any moment, he snuck out of the house, over to the shop, and exited with a bottle of rubbing alcohol and three large rolls of paper. He didn't find any of these inside the house… oh well. Now he had them.

He stayed in the kitchen on the ground floor, placed the pepper on a coffee filter and soaked it in alcohol. Once done, he put it all in the storage room, on a shelf where Eddie was unlikely to find it. Then he took three boxes of matches, and, using a plastic knife, as a metal one would be very dangerous, he patiently scratched off the head of each single one of them; the powder soon was placed beside the pepper on the filter.

When he first saw fireworks as a little boy, he decided he wanted to do this as an adult too. But from the day he accidentally set his brother Dean's (how he cried!) teddy bear on fire, he paid much more attention to the techniques. So far, it was him, Arnie, the young master of fireworks, the one asked to literally set alight the bigger school parties; on New Year's Eve they had to ask the police's permission too, but it didn't matter, the wonderful result was a perfect payback…

"Oh, hi, Eddie!" when his friend arrived downstairs around nine o'clock, Arnie was busy cooking some instant vegetable soup "sit down, it's almost ready!"

* * *

Though Gabriel Donaghy (Boy #4) was blown in the face with the pepper spray at around eight AM, it was nearly half past nine when he regained his senses.

_What happened?_

His cheeks were still slightly burning.

"Tom…!"

Thomas Reed (Boy #9) lay prone on the ground, with a bloody wound on his head. He was still alive, though: Gabriel could see he was breathing.

Gabriel quickly picked up his crowbar: he clearly could knock him out with it, and it was a matter of luck he woke up first, and stood up. He would have never wanted to kill… After some insecurity, he leant down to get the pepper spray as well, when Tom suddenly opened his eyes, and grabbed his arm.

"Aah!" Gabriel fell back, as the stronger boy jumped on top of him.

While they struggled, Tom managed to get hold of the pepper spray, but Gabriel's reflexes were quicker, and he kicked him in the stomach with his knee.

_Damn it, shit! He's my friend! We went to McDonald's with him and Mark, like two days ago!_

As Tom fell back, Gabriel jumped up and hit him on the forehead with the crowbar; as blood sprayed on the handsome solist's thin white hand, something clicked inside of him, and his vision went red. He didn't stop, and kept on hitting him, nearly out of his senses, his light blue shirt and orange T-shirt becomingdotted with red…

About two minutes later he noticed everything was bloody, including himself, the floor, the crowbar… and where Tom's head used to be, now lay a weird dark red object, shaped like some odd abstract statue.

Gabriel jumped up at the speed of light, and, with the pepper spray in one hand and the crowbar in the other, he ran to the bathroom on the ground floor, knelt beside the toilet, and threw up everything that was left in his stomach.

**Boy #9 Reed, Thomas – eliminated**

**21 contestants remaining**

* * *

Josephine and Jacob Anderson (Girl #1; Boy #2) had breakfast at a picnic table they found halfway as climbing the mountain. They didn't meet anyone so far, though Jacob, as leaving the school, noticed a silhouette among the trees, it was probably Benjamin Booster (Boy #3). Luckily, he didn't seem to have noticed them.

"Jay…" mumbled Josie "should we go higher?"

"Why, of course!"

"B-but Jay! They…"

"If we stay down here, they can attack us from up there, hello?!" Jacob waved a hand in his sister's face impatiently "and these will be easier to throw down!"

Josie nodded sadly, looking at her brother's hand grenades.

Once around the top of the mountain, sometime before 10 AM, the siblings paused in the shadow of a large oak tree.

"Josie, these are fragmentation grenades… it's awesome!" Jacob sat with his legs crossed, almost quietly playing with one of them.

"Huh?"

"They don't simply explode, they throw shrapnel around. Another reason for coming this high" Jacob snickered as he read the instructions "if we throw this down to some people, the more the better, at least a few of them will get hit… and _die_."

Josephine, crouching near her brother, looked around worried. Was this really his kind and shy brother? The one now merrily planning to murder his classmates? And, moreover, he seemed not to feel any guilt.

* * *

George Adams (Boy #1) came to the conclusion that hiding south from the school was a bad strategy, for the houses stood way more crowded there than in other parts of the island, thus there was a higher chance of running into someone. Houses. Well, George could have hid into one of them without bothering too much; but hiding away wasn't definitely his style. Nope, he'd rather wander around the island. In the end, he was the popular, trendy guy – no one would dare killing him just like that!

He ate and drank a bit inside a small dead end, then stood up and took the way north. Maybe, if not hiding away, some neglected place to take some sleep would be okay. Around half past 10 AM, he reached a small, derelict house in zone C8, with the garden (if it could be called a garden, since the old wooden fence was merely present) overgrown by weeds.

_Perfect. A few bugs and stingy weeds won't scare me off._

He made his way to the door in a few minutes.

Michael Spencer (Boy #11) hissed in fear as he saw a shadow in the garden. _Someone's there to kill me!_

Michael was not evil, antipathetic or unfriendly. The opposite, he behaved too much like a good boy. His ebony black hair was parted in a typical "mommy's darling child" way, in the middle, and it always seemed clean and silky. As the attacker of the soccer team, he was the idol of the sporty girls, especially when he brushed his sweaty hair off his childish, round light brown eyes, and looked up at the squealing fans… Moreover, he used to be a good student, a quiet, silent one, whom the teachers usually liked. Though he would have never killed, now, in the middle of the Training, he had no idea what to expect. If he shoots someone, it's only self-defense… Michael was scared. Though he used to be quite popular in the class, he hardly made any effort to be noticed apart from the soccer, just peacefully sitting in his desk studying. Once he dies, everything left to do was to find a new attacker, end of story… He pulled back in a corner shivering, and slowly cocked the hammer of his revolver. The instructions said it was needed before each shot with the Colt Single Action Army… The mysterious shadow then pushed the door open with a small creak, and entered. Michael stood in shade, the other one did not notice him yet. In the slight light he recognized George Adams' typical, charismatic face, with his short, very dark brown curls hiding his forehead, and his slightly crooked nose. He got really scared only then; for if it was, say, Arnie, Gabriel, or some girl not in Clan Lily, maybe, just maybe, he would have had a chance of survival. But George was a trendy, cool boy, Lily Bell's boyfriend (though Michael didn't keep track of them being together or not that very moment)!

_Slowly… slowly…_

Michael raised the revolver, and shot. Too bad it kicked unexpectedly hard; his hand shook and the bullet hit the wall above George's head.

"Aah!" George lowered his head, then jumped to Michael before he could cock the hammer again. The next moment he was already grasping his wrist, trying to get him to drop the revolver.

Michael didn't let go. He was desperate to live – and knew too well that if George had a knife or gun, he would have already used it. Then he suddenly noticed the bottle in his enemy's left hand; it was full of some transparent liquid.

_Water? No… but what is it, then?_

He couldn't read the writing on the label.

George noticed the direction of his look, and grinned evilly.

_Oh, you'll see what is this very soon!_

With a powerful movement of his thumb, he sent the tap flying to the ground, and, before Michael could recover, he spilled a few drops on his hand. It was very little, a few centilitres maybe…

"AAAAAHHH!" Michael dropped the Colt Single Action Army, and stared horrified at his burnt hand, as the skin and the flesh literally melted from his fingers in front of his eyes… his thumb and index finger went useless on both his hands.

George picked up the revolver; the hammer was cocked in a moment.

Michael wished he could run away, but George stood in the door. A bullet ran beside his face, then he heard the click again. George suddenly noticed the bottle was still open; since he would have never wanted to spill some sulfuric acid on his own hand as well, he knelt down for the tap.

This was enough for Michael; he jumped out of the window and ran off crazily. He heard two shots; at the second, he felt a hit in his right shoulder. It didn't matter; the pain, the blood wetting his white T-shirt, his useless hands, nothing: he wanted to live.

George swore a while, then calmed down. He got a gun, that was all that counted. He knew he couldn't stay in one place, though, maybe the shots would attract someone with a better weapon. He still had the sulfuric acid, a huge amount, perfect to kill: he hardly spilled any on Michael's hand from the 1,5 litres bottle.

He stepped out in the garden and went in direction of the school. He wanted to get to the church, to be precise.

* * *

**May I ask your opinion about who seems dangerous/likely to win?**


	12. By your side

**Sorry for the typos, I have very little time between exams. I'll try to review all your stories soon!

* * *

  
**

Martha lay quietly on one of the beds of the clinic, eyes closed, though there was a chance of her being awake. Rose stared out of the window cynically, the end of the cigarette lighting up with each sip. It was around quarter past 11; a few minutes before they heard faint gunshots from the north.

When the two girls got there about an hour before, Rose immediately took the bloody shirt off Martha, and disinfected the quite deep wound Mark's harpoon made. It was Martha who, despite the loss of blood and the desperate situation, calmly told her friend what to use and how to bandage it; she planned to become a doctor one day, after all, and whenever her little sister Natalie got hurt on the playground, she used to be the one to cure her. By then, there was a clean white bandage on her shoulder, having nothing else, she had to put back her bloodied shirt, but in the middle of the Training this was really the last of Martha's worries. Rory will protect her, always…

Rose, meanwhile, leaning over the map, decided that, unless it becomes a danger zone at noon, this was a fine place to stay at, though she would have preferred the sports centre to the east of the school – if it was a sports centre at all, in zone E9. She faintly made out the tall building while waiting for Martha in the dark, and there was no special sign on the map to mark it. However, there was no time for fooling around: she had to protect Martha, now. No matter several people would have said that Rory could kill without hesitation at any chance, these rumours were far from the truth. If Mark didn't wound Martha, she would have just chased him away, and the vampire lover could still be alive… Rose shook her head, finding it useless to wonder about this.

She reached into her pocket, and found, to her disappointment, that she had only once cigarette left. She didn't bring but one packet on the class trip, as she usually had enough with two or three ones a day; now she acted like a chainsmoker because of the situation. Sighing, she started opening all the cupboards on the wall, and soon smirked. Well, even doctors needed to sin: the last one had several cigarette packets in it.

* * *

"Al, if you want to use the piano, all you have to do is ask!" Willie's patience started to wear thin upon hearing just another of Al's hysterical requests to stop, for they will get shot to bloody pulps or such.

"Willie, enough! Or… well… shouldn't we cook or something? Or… I… I heard gunshots and this shotgun is longer than me and…"

"So you're hungry then? Say so!" Willie closed the lid of the piano.

Al was shaking like a leaf, his light blue eyes looking around nervously as he held on to his huge shotgun like a life line.

"Calm down, now" Willie stood up, his usually somewhat cold faint green eyes shone unexpectedly gently, as he placed a hand on his friend's shoulder "I'm not joking around to make you laugh or get on your nerves. I'm just… just… uh…"

He ran a hand through his pale brown hair, confused.

"You're just like that, that's all" Al closed the question, smiling sincerely for the first time since the beginning of the game "sorry, but I'm… scared…"

"Who isn't? Now, I'll go and take a look at this villa. Next, get ready to play some Mozart with me!"

Willie walked away happily swinging his flashlight.

Al stood there for a short while, still clutching his Silver Pigeon; in the end he took a deep breath, and sat down to the piano.

_The Training – by William Wosley_, said the writing on the score, above a few lines of musical notes. Al closed his eyes, and, using his musical memory, he imagined what it would sound like. Then another time. It was no wonder Willie planned to become a composer. Then Al lifted the lid, and began to play.

"Hey!" he heard almost immediately from the other end of the house, and soon Willie showed up.

"Sorrysorrysorry!" Al tried to talk his way out "I know it's your, and…"

Only then he noticed the small pistol hanging in his friend's hand.

"Where…?"

"These guys must be pretty protective of their expensive stuff, huh… in a drawer of a desk. And you're right, stop! We'll get down to the world tour once it's done."

* * *

Mary and Nick sat peacefully in each other's arms under a jasmine shrub, the by then dried white petals constantly falling from the slight breeze. The sword lay almost forgotten in the girl's lap, both of them had a hand on the handle. If Mary happened to wear long-skirted garments and Nick had a long cloak, they would have seemed like the protagonists of a medieval romantic drama. They found shelter in the cured garden of a house in zone B10; having heard gunshots from not too far away, they didn't take the chance to break a window or the door to enter. Nick just climbed the wrought iron fence, and helped Mary inside too.

"No, Nicky, no!" Mary stopped the boy's hand, reaching for one of the pansies "leave it there…"

"But I wanted to give it to you!"

"Leave it..."

"But it would look so pretty in you hair.

Mary lay her head on Nick's shoulder, and kissed his neck.

"Are you sure there's no one around?"

Nick shook his head.

"We can't be sure. But listen, we're here in the backyard, the door's closed, and the garden has just one entrance. We'll noticed anyone lurking around here.

A short silence followed.

"So, we'll stay here, huh."

"Yeah. Are you hungry?"

"A little."

"Here" Nick took a big, full sandwich from his bag and handed it to Mary "much better than that plain bread, right?"

Mary took the first bite, but then stopped.

"Nicky! And you…"

"Don't worry, I've got some more!" Nick pulled out another one.

Once finished eating, Nick caressed Mary's hair.

"Do you trust me, Mary?"

"Nicky… I… I don't know…

"Don't worry, I understand."

* * *

"You shouldn't wear so many jewels" Fran combed Hannah's smooth, straight black hair as if they were at home before a party. She had already cleaned the smeared lipstick, the messed up eyeshadow and trickling mascara off her face.

The other girl just growled, fed up with everyone telling her so, and, as a contestant of the Training, she really couldn't care less.

"Sorry, it's not about that…" Fran understood "but my comb always gets entangled in one of your necklaces…"

For Hannah, apart from the gold chain with the medal representing the star sign Pisces, also wore a thick pearl necklace which hung down lower than her chest and a thin leather band with three birght carnelian gemstones. Her jewel collection was completed by huge, gold hoop earrings, one bead and two mineral bracelets (one of black obsidian stones and one of blue lapis lazuli ones), a pink decorative watch and three rings.

When, five years before, Hannah got to know she had to wear glasses, her world cumbled around her. Her face was quite cute, and her dark eyes' depth rivalled that of Kristen's. Somebody with glasses can't be beautiful! Okay, maybe Hollywood actresses can, but only after tons of make-up and millions spent on plastic surgery… Hannah found solace in make-up and striking jewelry, especially since, at fourteen, she got an eye infection and had to give up the longed for contact lenses. In the class, why were Martha and Darla still single? Never ever having a boyfriend? Why, obviously 'cause they're wearing glasses!

"It'll be okay like this" Fran's voice woke her up "you don't look any more like a lost Jane looking for her Tarzan in the woods."

Hannah prefered not to take out her pocket-mirror; her two bags lay beside her, but now, insated of her cute plushie leopard (no one ever laughed any more at Spotty) she was hugging her axe. In fact, it was their only weapon, but the gunshots echoing from far away reminded them that others had much better ones. And attacking someone armed with a machine gun only with an axe sounded ridiculous…

It was over. They were doomed. If Fran wasn't, she sure was. To make up for her glasses, she brought only bright-coloured clothing, while her friend was much less noticeable in jeans and a dark green T-shirt.

"Hannah…? Are you even listening to me…?"

"Uh…? Um, sorry, Frannie… I was just wondering…"

"I can see that" Fran smiled "now, I was saying we'd better stay here. You see… it may not seem so, but your axe and my binoculars might even be an ace. If everyone had firearms, we would hear much more, right? And then, if someone runs at us with say, a pocket knife, we are a winner!"

"But I… don't wanna kill!"

"Why, do you think that's _my_ biggest dream?! But there's little chance of running into Mary or Maddie!"

"But the others… I… don't want to…"

"Hannah, me neither! But what if someone attacks you with a knife, and you can't run?"

Hannah didn't answer.

"Self-defence. That's all."

Fran picked up her binoculars, and started looking around just to amuse herself, up to the mountain. Suddenly her blood froze.

"Run, Hannah! RUN!!!" was all she could say…

* * *

**And sorry about the cliffhanger. Will post more if I manage to get some time!**

* * *


	13. No guilt any more

**Sorry for the lack of action. Some pretty shocking deaths will come along soon, though the body count will become insanely high only when darkness falls. :)

* * *

**

"Jay, nooo!"

"Stop it, Josie! Remember what we said?!"

"But they're my friends!"

"Just as everybody else in the whole class said… where the fuck do you live, Josie?! How many deaths there have been?! And what, do you think they all simply committed suicide or what?!"

Josephine Anderson let go of her brother's hand and turned away, sobbing. Jacob was right...

The boy tried to pull off the safety pin of the grenade with his teeth, as seen in the movies, but realised he couldn't, and used his hand instead, cursing stupid Hollywood directors. Then, as in baseball (he used to play as a hobby), threw the grenade from zone D4 to E4, using the mountain's slope to his advantage. In zone E4, Fran had raised her binoculars in that exact moment.

* * *

"Frannie…?" Hannah raised her head, scared.

"Just run! Fast! RUN!!!"

Hannah, still holding her axe, stood up and motioned for her bag, but Fran stopped her.

"Leave it!"

Fran grasped her friend's hand and pulled her away. A few seconds later Hannah noticed the flying object, and her eyes widened. She had seen things like that in war movies: a hand grenade!

Hannah could follow Fran only with difficulties, as she had the axe for one, and, second, the other girl could run far better with her tennis shoes, while she had cute little loafers with ribbons.

A second later a loud explosion was heard, and Hannah felt as if she had been struck with hot kinives in her back and leg as she fell down. Fran got a splinter only in her right shoulder, but Hannah pulled her down as well.

"Hannah! Hannah, are you okay?!"

The other girl just whimpered in pain; her red dress became darker around a triangular piece of grenade in her back, while her right leg bled heavily. The piece could not be seen, it must have got deep in the wound. Luckily, though, it seemed they managed to avoid most of them, probably because of the trees and the bushes, too.

"Hannah! Does it hurt very much? Hannah!"

"I'm… alive…" the skin on Hannah's face was scratched off, and the left lens of her glasses cracked, now looking like a spiderweb.

"Come! We gotta run, now!"

Hannah stood up shakily, but fell almost immediately, her right leg getting heavy.

"Stand up! Hannah! Hannah!"

"I can't, Frannie! I'm gonna die!"

"Stop speaking nonsense! Get up, and come! Wait… I got something in my bag…"

Fran left Hannah and went back looking for their stuff, but of their bags, only torn shards remained, water bottles broken, so nothing of use.

She ran back to Hannah, whose right leg turned all red by then, but the bleeding started to slow down around both her wounds. Fran knew she couldn't just pull the splinters out.

"God, Hannah! Please, hold on!"

She couldn't leave her alone, but she knew Jacob (as she had seen him very well), or anyone else alerted by the explosion, could come along any moment to finish the job.

Hannah began to sweat, and cried in Fran's arms.

"I'm gonna die!"

"You're not! I'm here with you!" a thin trail of blood descended from Fran's shoulder, making Hannah's hair sticky.

"Water…! Frannie, water…!" panted Hannah.

_What should I do now? Just say there's nothing to drink?!_

"There's no water! Our bags are gone!"

"Spotty! Water! Leopard! Water!"

Hannah began to speak nonsense.

"You want Spotty?" Fran looked at her a little uncertain.

"Spotty! Water! I wanna die with Spotty!"

Fran had heard enough.

"You're not gonna die, get it?! Come with me!" with this, she tried hard to drag Hannah away from there.

"I'm dying! I'm gonna die!"

"You. Are. Not. Gonna. Die!" Fran noticed they had only the binoculars around her neck, as Hannah must have dropped the axe.

"Wait for me, I'll be back in a minute!"

"I'm gonna die! Gonna die!"

Fran tried not to listen, picked up the axe with her left hand (thank goodness she was left-handed!), and ran back to Hannah.

"Spotty…!"

"He died!" Fran had seen the peluche pieces around the remains of Hannah's backpack "now, come!"

"I can't! I'm dying!"

"Stop it, no, you're not!" Fran grabbed her friend's shoulder, and shook her "you're not gonna die!"

* * *

"Jay, what's now?"

"No idea…"

"They're dead?! You've killed Fran and Hannah?!"

"Josie, I told you I don't know! I can't see them any more!"

"Let's go and see!"

"What if they've got a gun?"

"At least… they must be wounded, right?"

Josie bit her lip. She's just sitting on the top of the mountain, quietly discussing with her brother whether two girls she liked were dead, or better, if they managed to kill them.

"Come, Jay!" she took Jacob's hand, but he pushed her away.

"It's safer here."

He left no place for objections.

* * *

"Hannah…?"

"I'm trying, Frannie…" Hannah smiled slightly; she couldn't stand up and felt pretty weak, too, but somehow could move, half kneeling and crawling.

They got about fifty metres from their bags, and Fran hoped they could get to the clinic she saw on the map or at least reach a house. Too bad their maps were in their backpacks as well, Fran could only hope they were going the right way. Very far (especially with their wounds) to the south, they could see some tiny cabin beside a cornfield or something, around zone F4, but they had no hope of finding any medication there.

"Who was that…?" whined Hannah.

"Don't speak! Just come…"

"Who was that?!" asked Hannah, louder this time.

"Jacob. Come!"

Hannah sat up, and looked at Fran as if she'd been hit in the head with something heavy.

"But he couldn't! And Josie…?"

"It was him, I have seen it!" Fran pointed at her binoculars.

"Frannie! Look! A house! Over there!" Hannah pointed towards it.

Zone E5, right. They could see a white wall from between the trees.

"See? Come now! You'll resist until there!"

By the time they reached the door, the clock struck eleven. Fran smashed the wooden door in with the axe, and helped Hannah inside as well. Once there, they lay on the floor to regain their breaths. Soon Fran stood up, however, and walked to the switched off refrigerator, where, to her delight, she found not one, but two bottles of water!

"Hannah! Here, have a drink, we've got water!"

* * *

It was quite a bad decision to get away from their previous spot, or not trying to reach the small cabin. For at eleve, after half an hour had passed since the explosion, and so it seemed safe, one of their best friends, Madeleine Beaumont (Girl #2) showed up there, and scratched her head seeing the ruined bags. But she merely shrugged, and walked back to the cabin, where she had been hiding since morning.

* * *

All around the world there are several psychologists, students, or ordinary people who would swear there's no pure friendship between a boy and a girl. Now, if any of these would have taken a look inside a house situated on the souther edge of zone C6, they would have immediately taken it all back.

After 7 AM Lindsay Carter (Girl #6) cleaned and bandaged Daniel Scovell's (Boy #10) wound, and they began to talk about the impossible situation. They embraced once, when they met, but since then no holding hands, and no kisses. All Lindsay did was laying her head on his shoulder for a while. They were just best childhood friends, nothing more!

"Danny, I was so afraid! I was sure everyone was out to get _me_!"

"_I_ wasn't, for sure."

"I'm so silly! I slept through the news!"

"They weren't that loud anyway, Linnie. And maybe it wasn't so clear from inside here."

"Who…? Not too many, right? Right?!"

Daniel's expression turned dark, and he gave Lindsay the class roster, on which he circled the name of their dead classmates.

"Oh my goodness, Dora! And Kristen, Pete, and Susie… but… how…?

"The game has begun" Danny found it better not to say Benjamin Booster became a victim of his crossbow.

"Game… silly joke!"

"Not funny" Daniel shook his head.

"And what happened to your leg, anyway?"

"Some idiot shot me, I don't know who, I tried to get away, at least."

Lindsay didn't question him. She didn't even wonder why the atatcker didn't finish Daniel.

"Have you been here all along?"

"Yeah."

"Hm, give me the map…" Daniel crossed out the danger zones.

"Will you stay with me?"

"Well, if it doesn't become a danger zone, why not?"

"You've got a great weapon."

"Could be, but I think your palmtop is much more useful. Like, what use is this" he lifted the crossbow "if I don't know somebody is lurking around?"

It was around half past ten, when they heard an explosion from the southwest.

"My goodness! Like fireworks!"

"Not that, Linnie… but it wasn't a gunshot…"

"It continues…"

Daniel nodded.

At half past eleven Lindsay began to munch the bread she received, and took out also some of the chocolate cookies she brought herself.

"You want some, Danny?"

"No, thanks… but, what about some warm food?"

"From where?"

"Let's go see the kitchen downstairs, shall we?" the boy stood up; he was still limping a little, but not too much.

"Wonderful!" Daniel found a few soup powders, several canned foods, and even some rice. In the fridge there was a singler bottle of water (as Miss Durham predicted, the tap didn't work), and, to top it all off, a heater teapot working with batteries!

"Danny, is this water enough?"

"For a few soups, surely. But there's no electricity or anything, I can't light a fire, we can't put everything into that heater!"

"Maybe… cold food will suffice…"

"No, Linnie. We need something more to resist. Wait…" Daniel reached the house from the west, and in daylight, so he saw much more than Lindsay, who came there in total darkness and from the east. True, she walked around the house, but focused only on enrances.

"Linnie, is anyone around?"

Lindsay took out her palmtop: nothing, only their two dots in the middle. She shook her head.

"Then wait for me." Daniel carefully opened the door, and walked out.

Lindsay, though no new dot appeared, got exremely nervous after five minutes, but luckily her best friend entered just then, with some firewood in hand.

"I found this behind the house. Oh, and there's a well, too."

It didn't take long for the midday news to be heard.


	14. News effects

**More action now, I hope you enjoy it! The body count will increase like crazy from now on!**

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* * *

**

"It's twelve o'clock, if somebody didn't know!" Miss Durham's cheerful voice was heard "hey, dearies, you've slowed down! But congrats, girls, you've gained some advantage, for we have three dead, all of them boys: number three, Benjamin Booster; number six, Mark Hawkes; number nine, Thomas Reed. And now, the danger zones: from 1 PM, E7; 3 PM, B12; 5 PM, H5. Good luck!"

Jacob and Josephine looked at each other: so both Fran and Hannah were still alive.

George, having reached the church a short time before, exited cursing loudly. Zone E7, damn it! As if the dead body of one of his friends, Mark, in the company of a few cigarette stubs, blood pools on the floor and a piece of table-tennis racket wasn't enough, it was to be a danger zone very soon!

"Danny!"

"Yes?"

Lindsay was just circling the names on the class roster.

"They said Benny's dead just now."

"And?"

"You've circled him, too. How did you know he's dead? You saw it? Why didn't you tell me?"

Daniel bit his lip, and looked at his shoes.

"No, no…" Lindsay went white.

"It was him. He shot me… he wanted to kill me…"

Lindsay stared frozen at her best friend. After a few minutes of icy silence, she sat beside him and embraced him gently, resting her head on his shoulder. Daniel drew a deep sigh, and buried his face in Lindsay's soft, dark brown hair.

"Hey, hey, I'm not your girlfriend!" she pulled away smiling.

Daniel didn't smile, but felt he was forgiven. Lindsay trusted him completely – and he trusted her, too.

* * *

Miss Durham was busy checking the students' profiles on her computer, while on a huge map projected on the wall she could clearly see everyone's position. All around the room, men in black suits worked on other computers, or occasionally listened to students' conversations, thanks to a microphone hidden in each collar. It was impossible to escape, but still, it seemed some sort of pastime.

Suddenly the door opened, and a tall thin man, with light brown hair similar to Miss Durham's, walked in, holding a packet of files.

"Hey there, Ryan!" the teacher greeted her brother "isn't it fun we both became coordinators of The Training?"

Ryan Durham sat beside her smiling.

"Harriet, I just checked the profiles. Quite a strong class."

"Undoubtedly."

"Harriet" asked Ryan, after shortly checking out the positions on the map and looking at certain files "who do you think will win?"

"No bets, Ryan. This isn't a race or a lottery. Chances vary."

"I just wanted your opinion… I think Wallace and Adams are pretty strong, though Wallace… if he stays with his beloved, maybe not."

Nick's position was clearly visible on the map: right beside Mary.

"Hm… you're right, they do have quite a high chance of winning, but I'd still think German will emerge victorious. She might be a girl and have that weak Miller holding her back, but I know her well. Apart from her, Bell is another one I could picture winning. She already showed us her power, you see…"

"German? The flowerbed?" laughed out Ryan, pulling out Girl #8's fact file. Most of the students had second names, and two of them even used their second one in everyday life, namely _boy #14 John Nicholas Wallace_ and _girl #5 Lily Lindsay Carter_. (The class outcast got to know she was christened _Lily Lindsay_ only when she was about 8, since everyone called her Lindsay. And, of course, once in high school, she hated having to share a name with Miss Goddess Lily Bell.) But the one with the longest and most embarrassing name was undoubtedly _girl #8 Rose Violet Poppy Daisy German_. Her parents weren't even florists…

"Um, Harriet…" Ryan put down the files "if someone hides, and comes out to win only at the end…"

"Well, that's another strategy. If we take this into account, the winner could also be Beaumont, she changes her places, but often hides away. But neither Vine, Wosley or Carter moved since the beginning."

Both of them looked into the files again.

* * *

"Oh, no!" Belinda crossed out zone B11, which completely included the small port.

"We've gotta leave" Darla was still staring at her friend's beautiful tattoo.

"But not immediately. It's only noon."

"Right… see the map, we don't even need to go very far…"

"Darla…" Belinda pointed at the MAC10 hanging on her shoulder "I have this."

Darla had Susan's sickle and Kristen's knife on her belt, and kept her baseball bat beside her too. At least it was more than nothing.

"I… I don't want to kill, Bel!"

"Me neither, but the game is on now. And Jon… I saw him."

"He killed somebody?!"

"No, I think his collar went off. He lay not far from the school…"

Darla took a bit of her bread, then came up with an idea.

"Bel, I think we should try to find Lily."

"Well, she's surely alive, and probably she was at the rocks, at least for a while."

"And then the murderer surprised them. Poor Lily is probably wounded, and looking for us!"

* * *

"Poor Lily", meanwhile, after crossing out the names and the danger zones on Benjamin's map, wandered aimlessly around zone A4, on the seaside, wondering about how hungry she was. But bread was too fattening to munch away on it, so she rather drank a little water. She thought about the great nights with the whole Clan Lily, when they watched DVDs, danced, and ate mostly ice! They were snacking on something, but it wasn't fattening like chips or candy.

She sat down, and pulled out the instructions for Benjamin's AK-47. A perfect weapon; on her belt, she still had Peter's Beretta 92. Her body wasn't shaking any more, her guilt began to fade away. Susie was only self-defence, and Pete and Krissie just a dreadful accident. And she had no idea how and where Becky died. About Darla and Belinda, she could try finding them…

Enough. Sitting there wasn't helping. Darla and Belinda weren't likely to randomly show up there, so Lily decided she'd climb the mountain. She knew her friends were probably trying to find a safe spot – and what's better than the top of the mountain?

Half an hour later she rested on the border of zones B4 and C4. At least it seemed a quite spot; she couldn't sleep, but stretching her legs and sitting for a while was enough for her.

"Giorgio…" she whispered, thinking of George Adams, her boyfriend, another person she would have liked to find.

* * *

Boy #11 Michael Spencer cried silently. There was nobody in the sports centre (zone E9), so he didn't have to be ashamed, but it didn't matter. The bullet was still in his right shoulder, but at least the bleeding had stopped. Though he could move both his arms, it was no use: looking at his completely ruined, burnt hands, his tears began to fall again. He knew those wounds caused by acid (he realised it must have been that) would never heal completely, as some of his fingers looked nearly like bare bones. Michael, the soccer star, who when on the field, had the number 7 on his shirt, let his aching hands in the water of the pool; luckily the sports centre's door was open, he just had to lean against it to enter. He was hungry and thirsty, but left all of his belongings with his backpack in zone C8. Now, the pool's water seemed dirty, and he couldn't open the spent drink and snack vending machines, either.

Michael Spencer, the soccer star. All the trophies and medals… despite his shy nature, he was a true wonder as the attacker of Jefferson High's team. Once they had won the last match, becoming State Champions, the team captain, Frank, handed him the trophy after he had received it.

"Don't look at me. I might me the captain, but Michael… we have to thank him!"

He had also quite a lot of fangirls, enchanted by his soft black hair and beautiful, innocent light brown eyes. But he wasn't a seductor. He didn't even give out autographs, just blushed and smiled when they came to him.

But all that was over. He couldn't survive with those hands, and was doomed. The soccer legend could be declared gone. His teammates Arnie and Eddie… maybe they could help him, but he had no clue where they were. And… with those hands...

He began weeping again. Broken inside.

He couldn't hear the centre's door opening again, as the pools were quite far from the main entrance. They came only after a hall (the vending machines were there), with doors to the basketball court and soccer field outside, stairs to the first floor fitness room and the spectator seats for the swimming pools; then also changing rooms and showers divided the pools from it.

Boy #4 Gabriel Donaghy didn't wonder too much about why the map didn't mark the sports centre as it did with other "special" buildings, but it was the last of his problems at the moment. After he escaped from the house where he killed Tom (his stomach still didn't feel okay), he went south, and found himself there. He tried his best not to think about Tom, he couldn't risk throwing up again and going completely weak! He looked at the vending machines, and realized the drinks and some snacks wouldn't rot even without cooling. Luckily, their back wasn't too close to the wall, so Gabriel managed to force them open with his still bloody crowbar. After some cookies and a can of Coca-cola, he felt much better, and decided to explore the building a little. He put his bags down in the changing room, and walked to the pools with only his crowbar in hand.

Michael shook in fear. _They're gonna kill me!_

He didn't stand up, just stared at the door slowly opening. The one who entered was Gabriel; upon seeing Michael, he stopped.

"Don't kill me!" cried Michael, his tears falling freely again, as he held up his useless hands "please, please, don't kill me!"

"What… but… I… I wasn't going to…" Gabriel realized that he wasn't sounding too convincing, wearing bloody clothes and holding a dark red coloured crowbar. He threw it away and ran to Michael.

"Really, I swear, I wasn't going to hurt you! Mike, my God, your hands…! What happened to your hands?!"

"George!" wept Michael "he poured something on them, some acid or whatever! He shot my shoulder too! Gabe… your face…?!"

Gabriel's pretty, almost girly face was red from pepper spray.

"Pepper spray" he answered "it doesn't hurt any more."

"Don't kill me!"

"Really, I won't!" Gabriel placed a hand on Michael's shoulder.

"You're bloody! You've killed!"

"It was self-defence!"

"How could you?!"

"But I'm not gonna hurt _you_, too!"

A few minutes later, Gabriel helped Michael drink and eat something, as the soccer star couldn't hold anything with his burnt hands. It helped him trust the choir singer a little more, too.

Gabriel took off his bloody shirt, though the orange T-shirt under it was still spattered with red. He went up the stairs to look for something clean to wear, and soon returned to Michael wearing a light sporty shirt with a zipper. At least the blood wasn't so visible any more.

Michael was visibly on the edge of breaking down, weakened to the end.

"You should get some sleep."

Michael shook his head furiously.

"But you look so worn out, and… oh."

Gabriel realized Michael was most likely scared that he would bludgeon him to death while sleeping. It seemed useless to try to convince him of the contrary, so instead he just sat beside him, looking at the pool in silence. Michael fell on his side, but still stared at Gabriel. However, his eyes slowly closed, and, clearly from all the frustration, he finally fell asleep. The other boy watched him smiling.

_I'll protect you, Mike._

Obviously, he had no idea what he was going to do with a crowbar and a pepper spray, if somebody showed up with say, a machine gun, but he didn't wonder at all.

* * *

George Adams, having left the church, shot out the window of a small house, and went insde to look for food. He found nothing apart from some rotten vegetables, but at least he got hold of a knife, and hung it on his belt.

Then he walked past the school's danger zone, and reached the sports centre at around half past 1 PM.

_Cool place._

In a normal setting, he would have run in to lift some weights or practice basketball, but now he just grasped the Colt Single Action Army, and entered with silent steps. He saw nobody, but noticed something weird. One of the vending machines was open at the back, with some packets of cookies and cans of Coke lying on the ground. It seemed clear somebody had been there before, but were they still inside?

_I don't care who it is._

George's stare hardened. He had great weapons; he was going to win this game, at any cost. He still felt angry at Michael: he had humiliated him by escaping…

He walked into one of the changing rooms, and noticed two backpacks and a pepper spray on the bench. So the mysterious stranger was still inside… he placed his own backpacks on the ground, and holding the revolver, walked across the showers' room, and in the end, looked through the keyhole of the door leading to the pools.

Michael slept deeply beside the children's pool, in the ending opposite to the entrance. Gabriel walked in circles near the two metres deep adult one.

George recognized the solist immediately from his golden locks. As he turned his back on him, he opened the door and ran inside, knowing he had little time. He pulled the trigger…

_Click._

Just a click.

_Damn it, six bullets! I forgot to reload it!_

George couldn't run back to get the reserve bullets from his backpack. He lifted the Colt up, and hit Gabriel on the side of the head with full force.

"Aah!" blood spilt down the boy's cheek as he fell into the water; the crowbar sank to the bottom of the pool.

George, by then, noticed Michael as well, and grinned evilly.

_Aw, do we meet again?_

Michael opened his eyes to the splash; at first, in a daze, he hardly realised where he was. He tried to get up, but leaning on his hands caused immense pain. The he remembered everything.

_No! The Training! Gabe! What, what is going on?!_

"Sur-priiise!" George grasped Michael's thick hair from behind, and lifted his head up. Then he pulled out his knife and slit his throat with one swift movement.

An enormous amount of blood sprayed out of the wound, forming a huge puddle in a few seconds, and soon began to spill into the children's pool.

George slowly walked to the adult pool, with the dripping knife in hand.

Gabriel was floating in the water face down, water turning a little red under him.

_It's over._

George, in the changing rooms, put the pepper spray in his pack (he left Gabriel's backpack there too; he saw no sense in diving down for the crowbar either), then took some cookies, chips and drinks before exiting. He could go back there any time, he thought, unless it fell into a danger zone. He definitely needed some sleep now: he broke the window of a house, loaded his gun, and lay on the couch.

But it was not before George exited the changing rooms that Gabriel rose out of the water, panting and gasping for precious air, waiting for the redness in front of his eyes to clear. Leaning on the side of the pool, he tried to regain his breath. Tom's blood began to soak out of his shirt, his head wasn't so hurt, and luckily he didn't faint, either. But he nearly drowned!

George couldn't know that in Mrs. Novak's choir, a soloist needed lungs similar to those of a synchronized swimmer.

**Boy #11 Spencer, Michael - eliminated**

**20 contestants remaining**


	15. Patience wears thin

**Some more here, please review!

* * *

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"Arnie?"

"Hm? Yes, Eddie?"

"Are we gonna stay here all along?"

"Well, as long as it's not a danger zone, why not? We've got water, the shop is nearby, there's firewood too, food and…"

"But… I'm so scared, if someone enters…"

Arnie just pointed at the pistol on his belt without saying a word.

"And I…" Eddie tried to continue, bu Arnie silenced him.

"I'm here, I've got a pistol and, look, I'll throw one of these cute little New Year's Eve mini rockets…"

"Arnie! Haven't I told you to forget your silly fireworks?!"

"Eddie, if make one of these explode, the attacker will surely get distracted!"

"Oh yeah, and it'll attract an army of idiots with machine guns!"

"Don't worry! You haven't got anything to be _really_ afraid of. This town is quite big, and I don't think somebody will just randomly enter this house, out of all those. The shop might be a good spot, but not this place."

Eddie sighed, and put the knife and the hedge trimmer scissors he got from Arnie beside him on the couch.

"And if he's got no gun, we're even better" smiled Arnie.

"What the heck, you wanna kill or what?!"

"Are you crazy?! Of course not! But if someone runs up on me with a sword and a shotgun, don't expect me to point at my chest weeping, to just aim for that spot!"

"You've heard the gunshots, right?"

"Yeah."

"And if one of them comes here?"

"They won't."

"But what if…"

"Eddie, instead of all these _what if_s, we should be happy we have no reason to be too nervous yet."

Eddie would have had plenty of reasons to be nervous, if he saw what Arnie had prepared in the closet, along with the pepper and the scratched off matches.

_Forget your explosives, Arnie!_

_I can't, Eddie. You'll see, I've got a plan.

* * *

_

Madeleine Beaumont, at around 3 PM, was munching on her bread and an apple she brought, as some sort of lunch. She just couldn't shake off the images of the torn backpacks, though she couldn't exactly point out why. At the last bite of the apple, she finally realized, and nearly choked.

"'Anna'! Françoise!"

Yes, the baby pink pieces could only come from Hannah's pack, and the dark blue ones with all the pins, from Fran's. It was weird she didn't get to this conclusion earlier, for maybe she could have found them…

She picked up her Browning, and left the small cabin, walking back to zone E4, where she had seen the bags. But where could her friends be? As she stood there, wondering, she suddenly realized something else, and ran back to her previous hiding spot. If her friends weren't there, okay; but what if the attacker yes?!

She did well.

"She ran away" Jacob put the grenade back beside him.

Josie tried not to show how relieved she was.

* * *

Fran, at around half past 3 PM, was already feeling much better, she drank a little, and walked around the small house relatively quietly. Hannah reminded her about each thirty seconds that they were going to die anyway, and it really started to get on her nerves. In the end she sat beside her friend, and looked at the piece of grenade in her back.

"Hey Hannah, this isn't that deep, let me pull it out."

"But I'm gonna dieeee!!!"

"You're. Not. Gonna. Die. Listen, when I was little, I once fell on the street, and got a piece of glass in my back too. Dad pulled it out, I went okay pretty fast."

"I'm dying! No! I'm dying! I… aaah!"

Fran couldn't bear to listen to Hannah's whining any more, and simply grabbed the splinter in her back and pulled it out. She was right, only a single drop of blood ran out, nothing more.

"That's taken care of. Will you pull it down?"

"What?!" Hannah looked at her with teary eyes.

Fran didn't answer, just pulled the zipper of the red dress down, careful not to get entangled in one of the three necklaces or the huge golden hoop earrings Hannah wore.

_Why the hell wouldn't she believe she looks much better without wearing enough jewelry for a bijoux store, and all that make-up?_

Fran just shook her head, and put a plaster she found in the bathroom over the small cut. She was seriously getting tired of Hannah whining continuously. Fine, Jacob had nearly killed them, but none of them was on the edge of death! Hannah, if not otherwise, could at least crawl, and her hands were perfectly intact, she had no need to be helped by Fran to drink, like a few minutes before.

"Hannah, show me your leg!"

"No! I'm dying! You're pulling it out?!"

"No, I guess it's in there too deeply. A moment…"

Fran took some disinfectant and bandages from the medicine cabinet.

"Show me!"

"No!"

"See, it's gonna hurt a little, but I'm not pulling it out, okay?"

Hannah covered her eyes, and stretched her right leg out shaking like a leaf.

_Doesn't she trust me, or what?!_

Fran looked at her friend somewhat angrily. Then she ripped off a piece of the bandages, poured some disinfectant on it, and cleaned the wound around the splinter.

"Aaah…!"

"Silence! Hannah, I can't believe you have to whine so much! You've had some small wounds disinfected before, haven't you?!" hissed Fran "sorry. I can't pull it out, but at least I cleaned it. Let me bandage it…"

She quickly did so.

Hannah, still sitting on the floor, lay against the faded couch.

"Hannah, please, it's not so deeply in my shoulder… will you help me pull it out?"

"Can't you do it alone?"

"Your hands are fine, what the hell is wrong with you?!"

Hannah looked up at her with her eyes red from crying.

"…oh. Fine."

With that, Fran walked into the bathroom and quickly managed to get the splinter out of her right shoulder, especially easy for her, being left-handed. Almost no blood came out.

"Here, Hannah, a plaster. Could you help me?"

Hannah took it a little unsure of the idea, but, as she opened it, she accidentally got it attached to her own hand, then she dropped it, so she couldn't put it on Fran's wound.

"Leave it, oh, for crying out loud!" Fran walked back to the bathroom nervously, and put a plaster on her shoulder herself.

Hannah clearly wasn't as hurt and broken as she showed. Okay, maybe she was shaken up, but really, she could have tried to get herself together already! Fran knew Hannah had always been quite pessimistic, one who always saw the glass half empty rather than half full. In their group of four friends, they were the ones who differed the most from each other, but beside the calm, rational Mary and the slightly dominating Maddie they never really bothered. And, in the middle of the Training, turning on each other was the last thing they needed. They couldn't put it into words, but they both felt them being together wouldn't work on the long term, unless Hannah decides to pull herself together instead of crying and whining.

"We're gonna die…" muttered Hannah.

Fran was really getting angry over this, and, as she sat on the couch, she remembered what happened last summer, when she, Mary, Maddie and Hannah went to the park for an outdoors festival.

* * *

Among the several stands and games, soon a bungee-jumping tower was erected as well. Fran, who had been dreaming of trying something extreme for a long time, despite being the youngest student in the whole 10th C, decided it was a must for her. She looked for the prices, and began counting her money, when Maddie gave her some of her own.

"Here, Françoise! I know you rheally want to trhy!"

"Thanks!" Fran liked how Maddie called her Françoise, the French equivalent of her own name. Coming to think of it, she even addressed Mary as "Marie" and Michael as "Michel" sometimes.

Fran just got ready to stand in the line, when she noticed Hannah's pale face beside the smiling Mary and Midde.

"What's wrong?"

"You're gonna die…"

"I'm not!" in the background, they could hear the blood-curdling screams of another jumper.

"Don't jump, Fran!"

"Leave 'er!" Maddie put her hand on Hannah's shoulder.

"Don't jump! I beg of you, don't do it!"

In the end, Fran decided not to jump, and, seeing one of the people who did had to be helped to walk away, she thought she did well. Next day she regretted it, but was sure she would have plenty of opportunities.

* * *

But now there she was, in the Training, and, unless she wins, she'd never have a chance to try out bungee jumping. And who was responsible for that? Hannah, of course.

…_what am I thinking?!_

She tried to shun these thoughts out of her head.

"Fran?" asked Hannah "will you help me sit on the couch?"

"But you already managed to stand up!"

"Pleeease…"

Fran gritted her teeth, but helped the other girl sit beside her.

"Could you give me some water?"

"There's the bottle, take it."

"Won't you help?"

_Another one of these, and I'll…_

Hannah wiped her mouth.

"We're gonna die…"

This was when Fran defintely got enough.

"Stop! Shut up!" she grabbed Hannah's hair, but in the end only the thin gold chain and the thick pearl necklace remained in her hands "enough!"

"Fran! What are you doing?! We're gonna die… and… ack… ahh…" Hannah fell forward on the floor, the gold chain snapped, while the thick pearl necklace tightened around her neck.

"Enough!" yelled Fran "we're not gonna die!"

She grasped the necklace tighter, and began to pull it.

"Shut up! Enough!"

Hannah couldn't utter a word, she tried to reach for the pearls around her neck as her vision blurred and turned redder every passing moment…

"We're not gonna die!" Fran pulled the necklace harder "got it?! Do you understand?! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!"

Hannah's hand suddenly fell, her body slumped forward. Fran still held the necklace.

"Hannah?" she knelt beside her "it's okay, we're not gonna die, do you hear me? Hannah?"

The other girl didn't answer any more.

"Hannah? Hannah! HANNAH!" Fran began to shake her.

Hannah really shouldn't have worn so many necklaces.

**Girl #11 Poulston, Hannah – eliminated**

**19 contestants remaining**


	16. My happy ending

**I most likely won't have time to update for quite some time now, that's why I'm using all this little time I have now to translate as much as I can. Enjoy!**

**More memories and a shocking death in this one. Sorry for the breaks, memories have to be separated.**

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* * *

**

"Something's missing" Willie just kept on hitting one of the keys of the piano "I can't go on."

"Then maybe you should take a break, shouldn't you?" Al stepped in smiling, holding a plate of soup "I even found some noodles, put them in, maybe it'll taste better."

Only the frilly pink apron was missing to make him look like a stereotype "mommy boy" from some stupid comic book.

"Thanks!" Wille stood up and took the plate "no room service needed, let's go to the dining room!"

In the large dining saloon, there were twelve seats around the long table.

"Whoa, these rich guys surely hold huge festivities here!" said Willie between two spoons of soup, sipping loudly as a three-year-old.

"Probably… I guess so…" Al stared in front of himself, deep in his thoughts, his legs swinging in the air, for they didn't reach the floor as usual.

"Now, spit it, Alistair Vine! What goes on in your cute little head?" Willie pointed the spoon at him menacingly.

"Eh… just this whole thing…" Al was trying to find the right words "what if someone is dying outside there right now? And… could we stay here all along?"

"With no danger zones around, why would we get out? And we've got a piano here! A _piano_!"

"Um, Willie…"

"We've got three weapons" added Willie, then threw the spoon in the empty plate with an extremely theatrical move, before lying back. At least he did not carelessly place his feet on the table.

"And… well, yeah…" Al made a little jump to get off his chair "I think I can finally use mine."

"What, you couldn't so far?"

"But Willie, it's longer than myself!"

"But you said it was light."

"Um… right… well…"

Al picked up the Silver Pigeon, and held it horizontally, as for shooting.

"See?" Willie smiled, threw the plates in the sink, and hopped back to the piano, on which lay the revolver they found: a pretty, small nickel-coloured Colt Python.

* * *

Daniel placed some rice and a bowl of soup on the table. Lindsay happily took some of both, but the boy didn't move, staring silently at the ground.

"Danny, what's wrong?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Oh come on, you have eaten last evening in the best case! It's nearly 4 PM!"

"Linnie, I…" Daniel first looked at the bowl, then at the crossbow in the corner.

Lindsay understood.

"Danny, I trust you. I don't think you were running around with a loaded crossbow, looking for victims!"

Daniel looked up, somewhat confused, but very slightly smiling.

"Now, eat! You need it. And I'm not starving or stuff, I can't eat all this!"

The boy gave in after all.

"Linnie, are you worried about him?" he asked, once they had finished, for Lindsay was staying at the window, looking outside "and get back here, they'll see you."

Lindsay sat back, and looked at her best friend in suprise.

"I don't get it. Who are you talking about?"

"You know it perfectly."

"Um… yeah, a little. Or… well, no, he could take care of himself… or maybe… I… but…"

"Indeed, you are very much worried about him."

Lindsay sometimes could hate how her best friend saw through her.

* * *

He was a quiet, but nice and sweet boy. He didn't seem to find it awkward at all to talk to _her_, the class outcast. Not that he showed signs of liking her particularly, but at least he treated her like a human being. He even greeted her, something that other people in the class seldom did.

"What are you reading?" he once asked, as she entertained herself with a book during the break, as she had no one to talk to.

"Oh… _The Count of Monte Cristo_."

"Oh?! That's good! I have read it a few months ago. Are you already at the part when he escapes?"

And he actually _talked to her_. All through the break, and even after the bell rang. He didn't care about some of the boys giving him weird looks.

Then again, it was Chemistry class, and they were sitting next to each other, and given the task of doing an experiment together.

"Will it explode?" asked Lindsay.

"Hopefully it will blow _you_ up!" Lily whispered, passing by with the chemicals she just received.

The boy gave her a slightly angry look.

"Um… oh, damn!" later, Lindsay's hand shook sligthly, and she dripped some of the content of a bottle (thank goodness it was not acid) on the desk.

"Let me help, Linnie…"

_Linnie_. He had called her _Linnie_…

And he placed his hand on hers for a slight second.

But he wasn't in love with her. He was simply a kind, gentle boy, that was all.

Linnie had already been through the _OMG! GABRIEL IS SO HAWT!_ phase, like each single girl in the class, or, heck, in all Jefferson High. The handsome soloist was sickeningly perfect, but she didn't care any more. She wasn't in love with Gabriel.

But that light red hair… those sincere sky-blue eyes… he was so tiny and cute, so sweet and kind. Funny too, being older than her, but hardly reaching her shoulder, or what, her chest in height.

* * *

This boy she held so dear. This boy she loved. Boy #13, Alistair Vine.

* * *

A few dry jasmine petals fell on Mary's hair. Nick wiped them away gently.

"It's nearly a quarter to 5 PM" said the girl, looking at her watch "time flies so fast!"

"When I'm with you, my dear Mary, it certainly does!" Nick kissed her.

"Nicky, what's to become of us?"

"We'll make it through somehow… look, we'll stay together, I'll never, never let you go!"

A short silence followed. Some little bird's singing could be heard from nearby.

"My dear Mary…"

"Nicky?"

"Sorry if I ask you again… but do you trust me?"

Mary took a deep breath.

* * *

She recalled the days when she first heard the gossip about them being together. The mature girl, who helped keep quiet when their close-knit group of four friends was having an argument (it didn't happen too often, even with Fran and Hannah, as Maddie was another good pacifier), didn't pay any attention to them. But then she noticed (or just thought so?) that Nick was giving her interested looks. Oh, the tall, strong sportsman, with that long, straight blonde hair… he was beautiful. Mary loved his performance in basketball, but his looks were captivating, too. Could it be…?

When she asked her friends, Fran shook her head, Hannah had no idea what to say, but Maddie assured her it had to be _amour_. Mary, however, didn't dare to take the first step.

* * *

But now… they were together. Nick loved her truly!

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes, Nicky… completely."

With that, she closed her eyes, and let go of the sword's handle.

After a short, almost suspense silence, Nick spoke. All kindness gone from his voice.

"I was just waiting for this."

He instantly snatched the sword from Mary, jumped up, and stabbed her in the side with it.

"Nicky!" screamed Mary "stop!"

Blood began flowing from her mouth.

"Shut up, bitch! And _Nicky_ is just so girly, why do you think I never wanted to date you?!" he hit her again.

Mary couldn't say a word, she just held her hand out to defend herself, but in vain: Nick struck again, cutting off her pinky finger too.

The girl fell on her side, bleeding profusely. She was still batting her eyelids, though: horrible pain and sadness shone in her tear-filled blue eyes.

Nick picked up the bowling ball, and hit her on the head with full force: after a disgusting crack, Mary's eyelids stopped moving. Just a single tear ran down her cheeks, disappearing among the grass.

The boy quickly took their bags, and the sword with the sheath from beside Mary, when he heard some movement from the bushes outside the garden. He didn't wait too long: he ran off along the side of the house, stepping over the flowers, and escaped through the open main gate. He did well, as almost immediately shots were heard, and bullets hitting the wrought iron fence. The fast sound of a MAC10 machine gun.

**Girl #12 Rogan, Mary - eliminated**

**18 contestants remaining**


	17. Different

**New poll up, please vote and tell me who you voted for and why! No deaths this time, but more coming up!**

**And I'm not into theme songs/songifcs, but I had to put those few lines at the end...**

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* * *

**

The Ingram MAC10 smoked in Belinda's hand, while Darla stared in frozen horror at Mary's corpse.

"Maybe… maybe's she's still alive!" she screamed, and, despite her small frame and fragile appearance, she climbed over the fence in a few seconds. Belinda followed her soon.

"She… she's dead…" Darla shook in fear.

"I couldn't hit that… that…" Belinda was trying to find an appropriate curse word for Nick. Nick, the muscular basketball player, whom they both loved looking at during matches, screaming like anime fangirls; both thought he was a nice, kind guy, too.

The two girls spent some time in zone A10, once the port became a danger zone at 3 PM, then headed south. They noticed Mary and Nick over the wrought iron fence, and after some discussion decided to show themselves, when the unbelievable happened: Nick, with bestial cruelty, killed his love… or the girl who thought she was so.

They both bowed her head at Mary's body.

"Josh would never do something like this to me!" Belinda knew that priding herself of her own boyfriend wasn't the most appropriate thing to do, but nothing else came to her mind.

Darla shook her head sadly. Though Mary wasn't part of Clan Lily, they quite liked the kind, mature-thinking girl.

"Darla, are you in love with someone?"

"Bel!"

"What?"

"How could you ask something so silly in a moment like this?!"

"But, please! I'm your best friend! And you probably are, but you never told me! See, we even managed to get that stupid Lindsay to admit that she liked Al, so, Darla…

"Fine, fine! But he's in this class, so there's little chance of us meeting again, like you will with Josh, if you win."

"So…?"

"…Eddie. But I can't stand his idiotic friend, I think he'll set himself on fire one day! But then again, that wouldn't be so bad after all…"

* * *

Darla had always liked Eddie, who looked much more like Prince Charming to her than Gabriel. Eddie, who usually made it to the finals in almost every literature or grammar contest, and some of his short stories were published in the school newspaper. Though he had golden hair and blue eyes, somehow he was lacking the spark that makes thousands of girls run after him. Thus, he had almost no fangirls, unlike Gabriel, or even Nick, though even the sportsman's fans didn't even get near to the ones of the handsome solist.

"This… this is amazing, Eddie!" said Darla, holding the open school newspaper, showing him his writing titled _When you wish upon a star_, which was about what would happen if every wish came true.

"Thank you" smiled the boy, and the girl turned away, trying to hide how much she blushed.

"Eddie!" suddenly Arnie showed up "come quick, I must show you something!"

They hurried down to the school garden instantly. Darla could look at them quietly from the window: Arnie was showing some rockets to Eddie! As if it wasn't enough that the mulatto boy could distract her beloved any moment with some stupid plans about explosives, Darla began hating him on that fateful school party, when one of the rockets malfunctioned, and, instead of flying upwards, ran off to the side. Nobody got hurt, but it ripped and burnt Darla's pretty purple skirt, and she had to go home, and stop partying.

* * *

_If there's somebody I'd kill with pleasure in the Training, it would be Arnie…_

…_what am I thinking? But then again, even Belinda shot at Nick, but he deserved it… but this with Arnie is personal… oh, forget it!_

"Wow, this one's heavy… but I can bear it!" Belinda, who owed a lot of her weight to her muscles, lifted the bowling ball and placed it in her bag.

Darla trusted her friend and her seemingly invincible machine gun. On her own belt, there were only Kristen's knife and Susan's sickle.

The two girls headed southwards, and soon found shelter in a tiny house in zone D9. About fifty metres to the south they could see the DIY shop, and farther away they could spot the sports centre, the tallest building on the island after the church's tower.

* * *

Gabriel just sat, legs pulled up. He had taken off his clothes, and hung them to dry on the railing of the spectators' part, in front of the first row of seats, reachable from beside the pool. He didn't care that many girls could have died to see him wearing only his boxers; shortly before he dove in to take his only weapon, the crowbar. The children's pool's water turned light pink, with Michael still lying not far from it, in a pool of dark, gore blood. Gabriel couldn't bear looking at him… he knew he would never forget, in all his life, that horrible fear and icy horror he saw in his friend's wide open, light brown eyes, when he walked up to him.

…_I couldn't help him. How I swore to protect him!_

At least he closed his eyes, then knelt beside him, and could only cry for long minutes.

_Forgive me, Mike, please, please forgive me!_

He remembered the soccer matches, when he cheered for the school team, the PE classes, as they kicked the ball to each other, the happy times with the boys… without Michael, nothing will ever again be as before… no! There won't be anything, anything at all. The only survivor of the Training could take with him but the memories of a past that would never come back.

_Assholes! If I survive this whole thing…_

He tightened his grip on the crowbar.

_Yes! I will! I will be the survivor!_

He didn't mind any more the horrible stench of blood; he felt empty, completely hollow, feelingless.

In the end he dressed back, and walked to the mens' dressing room. As expected, George had taken away the pepper spray, but at least left him his bags. He had some food (without even counting the vending machines outside), and the sports centre was also easy to look around. He couldn't stay at the pools, though, so he walked up the stairs and sat on a mat in the fitness room up there. He decided he wouldn't leave, unless it falls into a danger zone.

* * *

Rose was already at the second cigarette packet. She knew that from there, a short way came to various diseases, like lung cancer and asthma, but she had to calm her nerves somehow, and the slow motion of lifting the cigarette to her mouth, then blowing out the smoke, were perfect for that.

Suddenly she hissed in pain, then touched her chest. Mark punched her breasts quite hard, and she wasn't made of iron eiher…

"Rory!" the door opened, and Martha walked out "look what I have made!"

"Mart! Again! You weren't sleeping?!"

The blonde girl shook her head smiling, her straight, thin locks of hair just flying. She wasn't wearing the bloody shirt any more, she stood there clad only in a frilly bra, holding a new, fresh, clean white short-sleeved shirt.

"I found thread, needle, scissors and a nurse's shirt… I modified it a little!"

The long sleeves had been cut, and sewed up flawlessly.

"It doesn't hurt that much" Martha moved her right shoulder "but it needs a new bandage, I would never want to stain this with blood."

Rose admired Martha for these small attentions of hers, as she couldn't even sew up a holey sock.

As she caefully bandaged her friend's shoulder, she kept on looking out of the window.

"Ow!" she had just finished, when her elbow accidentally touched one of her breasts.

"Rory? What is it?"

"Nothing."

"No way! Show me!"

Rose shook her head.

"No! Lift up your shirt!" Martha was already talking like the future (if she had a future at all) Dr. Miller.

The other girl agreed reluctantly.

"Take off your bra, too!"

Rose sighed and did so.

"Oh my God…! Rory…!"

Martha stared petrified at the large, bluish bruises on her friend's both breasts.

"Wait!" she opened a couple of cupboards, then finally found a tube of cream.

"This was of use even when Nat fell and hurt her knee…" she pushed some on her fingers, and reached out to apply it on the bruises, when Rose jumped up and pulled away with unexpected impetuosity.

"Don't you_ dare_ touching me!"

Martha stared in shock for a moment, then cleaned her hands, and handed over the tube. She sat in silence as Rose greased her breasts herself.

"Does it hurt you _this_ much?"

"Yes."

"But no one will see us here."

"That's not the point, Mart! My best friend will _never_ massage my naked breasts!" Rose put her bra and shirt back.

* * *

It wasn't very long before that people began gossiping about them being lesbians. Several students assured them that there was no problem with being different, and this irritated them to no end, but, while Martha decided to wait for them to find some other juicy stuff to talk about, Rose's violent shouts of anger were just like oil to the fire.

"Hey, Martha!" Susan blinked knowingly "I saw you at the lakeshore with Rose last summer… you greased each other with sunscreen a lot…"

"Well, we didn't want to get sunburnt."

"Oh, don't be ashamed, we don't judge you…" the other girl looked at her innocently.

"What should I be ashamed of?"

"Leave her alone!" Martha sighed in relief when Rose showed up, and pushed Susan away.

"Hey, hey, I wasn't going to steal your _girlfriend_!" shouted Susan, assuring to be loud enough for the whole corridor to hear her, then joined the rest of Clan Lily, giggling beside the lockers "you wouldn't believe it, German thought I was a lesbo too…"

"Leave them be" Martha grabbed Rose's arm, who already had her fists clenched.

"Flowerbed lesbo!" laughed Lily suddenly, and the bell rang.

"At least it's not _Honeyblossom_…" Martha tried to calm her friend, _Rose Violet Poppy Daisy German_, down.

Later, they were walking home together, when George, busy snogging Lily in a doorway, let his girlfriend go.

"Hey, you can come now and do it, we've just finished!"

The next moment the boy got such a huge slap that he hit the wall. He swore vengeance, and soon the gossiping began again. But as each wonder, this lasted a short time as well; then again, most people knew Martha was a total fangirl of Gabriel.

* * *

"Don't worry about Gabe, I think he's strong" Rose lit another cigarette.

Martha nodded smiling.

"Will they attack us here, Rory?"

"If someone gets hurt, they'll probably seek out this place. But I'll protect you."

"With a harpoon and a poker?"

"And karate."

"But what if they've got a gun?"

"It'll work out."

Martha admired Rose's self-confidence, strength and courage.

"Then we can stay. I trust you" the bandage was ready, Martha could finally put on her new shirt.

* * *

_/Before the doors close,_

_And it comes to an end_

_With you by my side_

_I will fight and defend.../_

_(Avril Lavigne: Keep Holding On)_


	18. Torn apart

**Sorry for the delay. Please review, and don't forget to vote!

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Madeleine got bored. Not that her biggest wish was to go out and a) get killed, b) shoot someone, but sitting on the only, rickety chair of the small hut, waiting for goodness knows what, was slowly but surely driving her crazy. She couldn't go north, for fear of running into the one with the explosives, there were few things to look for southwards, without even counting the danger zone there, just as the one to the west, so the only choice for her was to head to the east.

About twenty minutes later the mountain began to disappear behind her, as she reached zone F5. From there, a clear path led to the rocks on the east shore, but the road was interrupted by a few danger zones as well. She looked around, then slowly, cautiously began to walk northwards. A larger road entered the village from where she was standing, there were only a few houses.

It absolutely wouldn't suit Madeleine to move forward crouching, lying low, maybe even shaking from fear while grasping her revolver spasmodically. No way; she walked standing straight up, proudly, with confident steps, letting the Browning hang loosely in her hand. The slight breeze moved her thick black locks a little, and, as usual, nobody could have read her feelings from the gaze of her dark blue eyes; Madeleine would stay enigmatic as ever, the huge golden cross she wore shining in the sunlight. This was Madeleine Marie-Céline Beaumont: not sexy like Lily, or pretty-faced like Lindsay, but, plain and simple, _beautiful_. Despite carrying two large bags, she looked as if they had no weight at all. After having walked about two hundred metres to the north, she suddenly noticed something: at her left, there was a house with its door broken in. Madeleine carefully placed her bags at the bottom of the wall, raised her pistol, and approached it carefully. Nothing could be heard from inside. She took a deep breath, and stepped in front of the door aiming it at whatever could have been hiding in there. But she nearly dropped the Browning for what she'd seen inside.

"'Anna'!"

Hannah lay in the middle of the room with her limbs spread and her dress torn. She was staring at her with empty eyes from behind her broken glasses; her lips have turned to a bluish shade, the mark of the pearl necklace was clearly visible on her neck.

"She's dead."

The flat, emotionless voice came from a corner.

"Françoise! What 'appened 'erhe?"

"She's dead" Fran sat crouching, hugging her knees tightly, without even looking at Madeleine.

"But… what? What 'appened?"

"She was whining too much…" Fran grinned evilly, her teeth, appearing for a second, looked like those of vampires in movies.

"I don't underhstand!"

Fran rose her hand, and made a pulling motion.

"Those stupid necklaces…" shen hugged her knees again.

Madeleine stood frozen for a moment, then finally understood what she had heard.

"You… you? You killed 'er?!"

Fran slowly looked up at her, and made the same scary grin as before.

"I did."

""Ow could you?!"

"She kept on whining, I said that!"

"But… but…"

Fran stood up, and picked up the axe from the floor.

"I killed her… I've had enough."

"Stop! _Arrête-toi_!" Madeleine pointed the revolver at Fran "what arhe you trhying to do?"

Fran didn't answer, just took a step forward.

"Françoise…"

That exact moment, Fran swung the axe, and Madeleine pulled the trigger twice.

The axe hit the ground at the French girl's feet with a loud crack, as Fran fell backwards, right over Hannah.

"_Mon Dieu_!" Madeleine leant down for the axe, then looked at her two friends' bodies. Blood flew over Hannah's pale face from the wounds on Fran's temple and neck.

"_Mais… pourquoi? Pourquoi…?_"

She didn't cry, as she could only stare. Then, she carefully closed the two girls' lifeless eyes. She noticed the binoculars on the table, but left them there.

Making the sign of the cross, she walked out, put the axe in one of the backpacks, and sat beside the yellowish wall. She tried to gather her thoughts, to understand what happened, what she had done…

"_Pourquoi_?" tears began forming in her eyes.

But Madeleine had no time to get herself together, for the evening news rose.

**Girl #14 Swearingen, Frances – eliminated**

**17 contestants remaining

* * *

**

"Good evening, everyone!" said Miss Durham "on with the dead ones! Only one boy died: number eleven, Michael Spencer. As for the girls, more: number eleven, Hannah Poulston; number twelve, Mary Rogan; number fourteen, Frances Swearingen. And now, the danger zones: from 7 PM, B3; from 9, D6; from 11, I5. Good luck, darlings!"

"Marie!" screamed Madeleine, then quickly covered her mouth, afraid someone would hear her. She just thought that now, with Fran and Hannah gone, she could count only on Mary, but no way, she was dead as well…

_Je suis seule… I'm all alone…_

She hurriedly wiped her tears, and, feeling she couldn't bear staying there, picked up her bags, jumped up, and, finding no better option, ran back to the small hut. She got there in ten minutes, panting heavily. Far south, she could see the sea, washing against some rocks over the sandy beach. It was getting dark.

* * *

"We must leave!" Martha began packing.

"Hush, Mart, and sit down!" Rose firmly pushed her back in her chair "it's only 6 PM. The zone will become dangerous only at nine."

"But…"

"We'll get ourselves together at 8, okay? I'm not happy about this, but what can we do? You always pay attention to everything, so you choose where to go from here!"

Martha picked up the map, and began searching for a good place.

* * *

Arnie and Eddie looked at each other shocked, then their eyes filled with tears. It wasn't manly to cry, but the memories…

* * *

"Arnie!"

Arnie, wearing shirt number 13, received the ball from number 3, Eddie, successfully dodging the other team's attackers. He knew he mustn't scream… the best one, the star, never shouts to make the others kick him the ball, he just waits for it. Most of their opponents were concentrating on the team captain, Frank, they nearly entirely skipped over the shy boy, with the number 7 on his shirt.

Arnie gave the ball a huge kick, to send it to the other end of the soccer field… and Michael did it. He never caused disappointment.

"GOOOAL!!!"

Jefferson High won this match too.

* * *

Michael… Michael couldn't die! Michael, the star! The quiet, shy attacker!

Arnie, once he recovered from the initial shock, checked in the closet and found, to his delight, that the pepper soaked in alcohol had already dried, so he mixed it with the phosphore powder he got from the matches, and, once pouring it into a paper tube, he glued both endings hermetically. Time to tell Eddie.

"Eddie!"

"Yes?" he swallowed a bite of bread, and looked at his friend curiously.

"I have to confess something."

"You made fireworks again."

"How did you…?"

"We've been friends long enough…" the blonde boy smiled a little bitterly "so, what's the great plan? Are we blowing the school up?"

Arnie shook his head.

"No. I can't make anything that strong, and however, we couldn't throw anything in there without entering the danger zone."

"So?"

"I want to make a fantastic pyrotechnic show!"

Eddie, hearing this "wonderful" answer, stayed silent for a moment, then jumped up, quite angry.

"All there? Just that?!"

"Calm down, Eddie! Listen, where are we? At home, before a school party? Well, not, on an island, in the middle of the Training!"

"Okay, you're not trying to blow our friends up, but what then? It doesn't make any sense!"

"Does the Training make any, Eddie? But at least they will remember us!"

"But Arnie! All the idiots with machine guns will gather there and…"

"I've got a pistol, Eddie. And…" Arnie looked at Eddie knowingly.

"Okay, so, are we blowing this house up?"

"No. We're goint to the DIY shop, zone D9. We've gotta get there before midnight, when it's dark, at around 10-11 PM. They surely have some rockets, and I made an exploding tube too. I think the careful ones won't come out hearing the explosions, so, when the show is at its highest, we'll run away and hide nearby. Then we'll see who we need to fear, but they'll find each other too, so…"

"Arnie! I think… this is…"

"Eddie, those out there are merrily murdering each other! Think about Michael! He didn't commit suicide for sure, and would have fought until the end! But someone got him too!"

Eddie sighed.

_Let's do it, then.

* * *

_

"Jay! They're dead!" screamed Josie.

"Oh, you mean Fran and Hannah?" Jacob played carelessly with his remaining grenade.

"Yes!" Josie started to get really scared. How could her brother be so cruel and unfeeling?

"Josie" the boy's cold blue eyes, similar to her sisters', flashed her a freezing look "we have no choice, we've got to kill."

"But… but…"

"Only in self-defense. I promise… next time."

With that, Jacob threw the grenade up, and caught it before it hit the ground.

Josie looked at her feeling uneasy: one little mistake and they will be both blown to tiny pieces…

She remembered well her quiet, smiley brother, who used to ask her to bake him muffins, and helped her with her math homework. The one who always stood by his friends, helping whenever needed. Then there was this kid, playing with the grenade, elaborating methods to kill others. Does she know him at all? But she didn't dare talk back to him.

* * *

At school, if someone called the name "Anderson", almost everyone immediately thought "Josephine". Maybe they vaguely recalled she had a twin, or knew him, but most of the time nobody cared.

_Need some juicy gossip? Just get near Josie for a few minutes!_

For Josie, chattering incessantly and with her eyes always open for anything, could tell the most accurate information about stuff happening at Jefferson High. She used to be the only one who perfectly kept track of George and Lily being together or splitting up (which even Clan Lily didn't bother to pay attention to), the girls Tom got laid, the newest clothes Hannah bought, and the revolutionary diet plans tried out by Belinda. And, of course, providing the huge hordes of Gabriel's fangirls about every tiny thing that could be known about him, like his favourite band, his extrascholar activities and so on (which, on a side note, she knew so well because she was in love with him, too). Funny fact, but Josie never spread around fake rumours. She never told gossip that wasn't, at least partially, true. For example, she never claimed Martha and Rose were lesbians, or Madeleine was sleeping with guys. Also, she miraculously wasn't bullying Lindsay or Dora for being losers or out of style; as long as someone listened to her endless flow of words, it was okay.

As for Jacob, he didn't stick out for anything. He sometimes played baseball for fun, had quite decent grades, and helped those in need, all there. Growing up with such a dominating sister, it wasn't much of a surprise. Too bad Josie never seemed to notice how much she oppressed him; and that Jacob, introverted as he was, gradually turned into what psychologists would call a slowly ticking time bomb.

* * *

Meanwhile, Lily Bell, only about 150 metres north of the hiding spot of the Anderson twins (all three were inside zone C4), decided in the end to eat some of the bread she found in Benjaimin's backpack. As it was getting dark, if she looked out to the sea, she could have seen a wonderful sunset, but was too tired to care. It was around 7 PM. Soon she got up, deciding to go a little higher, maybe being able to see more from up there, and began to walk southwards.

"What was that?" Jacob stiffened.

"I didn't hear any…"

"Sssh!"

Jacob slowly stood up. Josie held her pickaxe tighter. There was some silent movement between the trees, though they couldn't see anything because of the terrain's differences. Suddenly a twig snapped, and a figure appeared.

"It's a girl…" whispered Jacob.

"Lily…!" Josie shouted, though she didn't mean to.

_Are they going to kill me? Jacob…? What…? Josie…?_

Lily rose the AK-47.

Josie's eyes widened. Only fifteen metres between them and Lily.

"Step aside, Josie!"

"Jay, nooo! Lily… Lily won't… she'll never…"

_Damn it, can't this fool see?!_

Jacob kicked his sister to the ground. He had had enough, enough of everything. He won't submit this time, never, never again…

"Jay! Jay!"

"No…" Lily began to shake.

Jacob didn't waste any time, and pulled the pin out of the grenade. Lily's finger slipped, and a few bullets ran to the side, making a bird screech loudly, and Josie begin to scream.

"Jayyyy! Nooo!!!"

The boy took a split second to turn to the side, both to the bird and his sister… just a split second. Merely.

The next moment the grenade exploded in Jacob's hand...

"Aaaaahhhh!!! Nooo!!!" Lily fell on her back, firing to the sky. Some shards reached her, cutting her clothes, her arms, her face…

Josie crouched, feeling some small splinters flying around her. It was all over in two seconds, she miraculously survived with only a few cuts and scratches.

"Jay…?"

Josie didn't recognize the bloody pile of clothes.

"Jay, what's that? Jay, where are you? Jay? JAY?!"

Suddenly she understood. At the same moment, as if half of her sould had been torn out. The twins… born together, always together…

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

(Even Maddie heard the scream, but didn't bother too much.)

Josie collapsed over the pile of flesh, bloodying herself completely, but could only cry and scream.

_He has always been there! Always! _

Lily felt blood drip down her face and onto her chin from a cut on her right cheek, as well as other drops running down her arms and legs, but nothing too serious; she could still stand and hold her guns. She couldn't bear it any more: she turned around and ran to the north, down and away from this cursed mountain…

Josie, looking up for an instant, saw Lily's long hair, flowing messily behind her. Then pain overwhelmed every other feeling.

When she ran out of tears, she still held on to Jacob's clothing, wishing to get her brother, her twin, the other half of her soul back…

_Lily. Long hair. Long hair… Lily._

She would have her vengeance.

More than an hour passed, when Josie finally managed to stand on her feet. Her whole body, clothes, limbs, face, even her black hair in a single braid with a huge pink bow, were soaked with blood.

_Jay… come back… come back, dear Jay…_

"_Josie!"_

She blinked. She could see Jay.

"_It'll work out!" Jacob winked._

Josie grasped the pickaxe tighter, and smiled.

_You're with me, Jay._

"_Of course I am, Josie. I could never leave you."_

**Boy #2 Anderson, Jacob – eliminated**

**16 contestants remaining

* * *

**

**French words: Pourquoi = why; Mon Dieu = My God; Mais = but.**


	19. Sounds in the darkness

**Sorry if it's short. Away for a week now, then I will probably upload the next one, which will most likely be the one with the most carnage, 4 more are going to be eliminated. Don't forget to vote! When the number decreases to 11, I will post a new poll. Review please! Predictions, opinions about the characters are more than welcome!**

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"Linnie, you're totally nervous."

"Why, you're not telling me you aren't, are you?!" Lindsay stared at her palmtop like a video game addict to the Game Boy Advance.

Somehow, Daniel rarely showed his feelings.

"And you're worried about him."

"But…"

"And if you see a third dot appear, you'll run out to see if it's him."

"No…! I… I would run to you and tell you to get the crossbow!"

"And I'll protect you, Linnie."

Lindsay kept on tapping the kitchen floor with her foot, her nerves nearly wracking. The sky had already turned indigo.

"Dots!" she screamed suddenly, as, in the dark, only the greenish light of the palmtop shone on her face.

Daniel, still a little limping, ran over. They watched tensely as two red dots showed up to the south, heading towards the northeast, then disappeared. They merely passed through a corner of the square monitor.

Then nothing. The two friends were just about to sigh in relief, when Lindsay covered her mouth with her hand, her eyes widening in fear.

"Somebody again!"

"Sssh, stay quiet, Linnie!" Daniel leant closer, as he stared at the palmtop too, seeing a new red dot – this time much faster than the other two – running diagonally across the monitor.

Lindsay shook in fear, and looked out of the window. The mysterious person had to be out there, only ten or twenty metres from the house. What if they try to get inside? Or if they have a gun? Then she saw a figure, most likely a girl, running along the street, holding a long object, maybe a hammer or an axe.

"They aren't coming here, Linnie" Daniel pointed to the monitor. The dot disappeared to the southeast, about the same place where the two others passed a few moments before.

The two best friends looked at the palmtop for a little more time, but nothing happened.

* * *

Rose and Martha, once they left the clinic, headed directly to the northeast, after the latter girl decided that the shore of the small lake in zone C7 was one of the best spots for them to go. First, there are a few houses to hide in, if there's bad weather or something; second, the terrain could be easily scanned, and they could defend themselves better.

This time, it was Martha who carried the harpoon, her being the weaker; Rose let the poker hang in her hand loosely, as she was considered scary and dangerous even without weapons.

Suddenly they heard something from the nearby row of trees. Rose immediately pulled Martha behind herself, and rose her weapon. Martha grasped the harpoon tighter, a little shaking from fear. Soon it became clear that running footsteps were heading directly towards them! Martha turned around, her long blonde hair shone in the moonlight for a second.

_The long hair!_

Josie rose the pickaxe high, and quickened her steps, aiming right at Martha. She saw another figure, but barely realized.

Rose didn't hesitate either: she blocked the pickaxe with the poker, then kicked the other girl to the ground.

"Josie!" Martha looked at her in surprise "we don't wanna hurt you!"

_This isn't Lily_. Josie looked at the two faces in a daze.

"Why did you attack us?" Rose asked coldly.

Josie didn't answer.

"Why, would you come with us?" asked Martha, smiling down at her, not caring about Rose's angry stare.

Silence again.

Then, Martha said the worst thing possible.

"Weren't you with your brother? Jacob! Jay! Josie, where is he?"

Something inside Josie cracked.

_Come on, Josie! Have no mercy!_

_Yes, yes, Jay! I'm going!_

The pickaxe missed Martha by a millimetre, for Rose's reflexes were good as always: she pushed her friend away just in time.

"Josie! Josie! What are you doing?! Rory..." screamed Martha, as she fell on her side.

Josie, raggedly shouting insensate words, tried to get up, when Rose hit her on the head with the poker. Then she fell, blood spraying out of her skull. Martha could only watch in shock as Rose struck again, something cracked, and Josie didn't move any more.

A single tear glistened in the tall girl's eye.

_Nobody would hurt Martha._

**Girl #1 Anderson, Josephine – eliminated**

**15 contestants remaining**

**

* * *

**

George awoke at the news at 6 PM, and crossed out the danger zones (he was currently in zone E10) and the names, then fell asleep again. About an hour later, when an explosion was heard, he merely groaned and turned on his other side. At around 9 PM he finally opened his eyes, stirred and sat up. Complete darkness outside. Carefully, he turned his torch on and checked the map and the names again. In the end, this wasn't a bad place to hide. Up to that time, he just kept on walking around, but maybe that wasn't the best strategy, the Colt Single Action Army wasn't the best gun by far. And the small house could be protected easily and… his gaze suddenly stopped. He stared in shock at the names crossed out. Michael was by all means gone, but Gabriel…? Did he forget to cross his name out too? For George used to sign only at the news, he picked even Michael out at 6, but was too sleepy to notice anything weird. But no, he woke up at Miss Durham's greeting, he didn't miss anybody. But in that case…

"It cannot be!" he grasped the hard paper so tightly that it crinkled up, cracking.

_Why didn't I shoot him?!_

George flattened the list out, and tried to calm down. Then, with the knife, the revolver and the pepper spray on his belt, and the sulfuric acid in his backpack, he silently, slowly walked out to reach the sports centre in zone E9. He arrived withing twenty minutes.

_Is that fucking Prince Charming prettyboy still here?_

George hated Gabriel for being so popular, pretty, tall, and clever. Sickeningly perfect. George himself, though trendy, a born leader and good charmer, was only 168 centimetres tall (still taller than most of Clan Lily, though, given that even the Bell girl hardly reached the 162), and his dark eyes and almost black hair looked average at first. But Gabriel… 179 centimetres in height, thick silky blonde hair, a little cold, but beautiful green eyes… too much. And how come, George, held back one year after having failed literature, was the oldest in the class (passed 17 a few months before), while Gabriel, born in May, the second youngest after Fran… or well, _the late_ Fran... how could he be better than him? How _dare_ he humiliate George, _the great_ George, by surviving?!

He took a deep breath, and pushed the door in. Nothing moved, so, with the Colt in hand, George slowly advanced towards the dressing rooms and the stairs. As his eyes gradually adjusted to the darkness, he noticed Gabriel's bag was gone; maybe he had even left the building. But he had to be certain. Passing through the showers and reaching the pools, he could only see the water shining in the moonlight entering through the huge windows. The heavy stench of Michael's blood didn't bother him. Only the small fitness room was left, up the stairs.

Meanwhile, Gabriel's well-trained hearing didn't fail him. He first heard something like the front door slightly creaking, then continuous movement from down the stairs. He had no doubt somebody had entered – but who? Friend or foe? Gabriel knew, that, if it was somebody hostile, he had no chance with the crowbar, unless the other started the program with a rubber chicken or a toothbrush. _Maybe… maybe they're already gone? Or at the pools…_

Gabriel walked out the door, hoping to manage to get down the stairs, but he shook in fear when he heard the door of the dressing room open, and the mysterious person get into the large entrance hall again. If they get to him, he's dead! His heart beating like crazy, he ran to the window, but realized that jumping down would equal suicide, given the three-story height due to the high ceiling of the pools section. Then he heard steps from the staircase… he had to hide quickly.

George arrived upstairs, where he found two doors, one to his right and one in front of him. Turning his torch on, he first opened the one to the right, with _Seats_ written on it. It opened to several, gradually descending rows of plastic seats. Nothing moved, only the slight glimmer of the pools' water could be seen. He turned back and entered the other one, turning the light off; the moon shone inside quite well, he could spot an exercise machine near the window, some dumbbells in another corner, and a few rugs. No movement again. Rising his pistol, he carefully approached the windows. He could see the houses to the north, and the DIY shop a little farther away, but nothing special; then again, nobody would jump from such a height. Suddenly, from the only corner of the room that remained in shade so far, he heard a noise, then footsteps, as somebody ran out of the door.

"Stop!" he shouted, shooting, then cocking the hammer again, and began to chase the other person.

Gabriel, with the map in his pocket, the crowbar in one hand and a small bottle of water he got from the vending machine in the other (he knew it was extremely important, and kept it with himself before hiding away), tried desperately to escape, running like crazy down the stairs. He managed to crouch between the treadmill and the wall in the last few seconds, and exit when George turned away. He would have really loved to push him out of the window breaking the glass, like in the movies, or knock him out with a dumbbell, but he knew it was impossible, given that the other boy would have surely heard him and killed him on sight. Shots cracked behind him. Gabriel didn't care; he nearly fell on the ground floor, ran across the entrance hall, pulled the door open and finally felt the cool air of the night. He could hear another bullet hitting the door begind him, but it didn't matter. He kept on running northwards; leaving the DIY shop, he suddenly turned to the west, hoping to leave George behind, if he were to chase him. Finally he rested between two houses in a tiny dead end. He was terribly scared; George was "playing" for sure, but not only him… and even himself, Gabriel! He bludgeoned Tom to death… no, no! He tried to control his stomach contracting; he couldn't vomit again, and go completely weak. He wanted to live… he drank a sip of water, and sighed, paying attention to each little sound.

George, as he gazed outside, couldn't spot Gabriel anywhere, but decided not to chase him, and maybe go noticed. Angrily, he shot into one of the vending machines, breaking its glass. He took out a coke and drank. The soloist had escaped for the second time.


	20. Burn out

"Will you guard me?" Al walked up to Willie wearing square-patterned pyjamas.

"You want me to play a lullaby?" the wannabe composer kept on hitting the same key over and over again.

"No thanks. Aren't you tired?"

"Inspiration, Al! And if I fall asleep, how am I supposed to watch over your dreams?!"

"Will let you sleep a little too, of course… I will be the one on guard then. Um, sorry…" Al took the Colt Python from the piano "I think I'll keep this, just in case."

Willie waved a little nervously, then continued hitting the same key, while ruffling his already messy pale brown hair with his other hand. Something was missing, somehow the whole thing just failed to add up. He could have simply written some random notes at the end, which would have sounded cool, but they wouldn't have been what he wanted. He didn't know himself what he wanted to do with the masterpiece called _The Training_, but it didn't seem to work out the way he would have loved for it to. Willie didn't understand, either, that he had only days, or, what the hell, hours, maybe even minutes left to live, so he should better hurry up. He knew it, but didn't realize it to its fullest. He would never add some average notes, just to toss and turn in his grave, unable to rest in peace. Only perfection would satisfy him. Let his last work be monumental!

Al, half asleep, hugged tightly the soft pillow on the four-poster bed upstairs (he didn't mind it was pink, it was so comfortable!), as he remembered the happier days he spent in the 10./C. For instance, when they celebrated Halloween in the school's small basement disco. There weren't too many people around; it was their class' duty to prepare the snacks and put on some spectral music. After Nick, dressed as the Grim Reaper, accidentally cut out the side of a Jack o' lantern, the girls shooed him off to scare the innocent bypassers, and called for Al, in a cute vampire's outfit, whose small and delicate hands were much more fit to work on the pumpkins.

A while later he was busy cutting triangular eyes, when he noticed the bunch of girls playing Truth or Dare were giggling and throwing him knowing glances. He didn't mind; most likely he'll soon get a phone call or an SMS from one of them, telling him about everlasting love. Lindsay (it was weird Lily's group took her in too this time) looked at the floor, visibly embarrassed; she must have been the "chosen one" or something. He soon forgot about them, though, and the girls separated when Willie, in a devil's outfit, ran in with a sponge pitchfork, and nearly fell over Susan, sitting the closest to the door…

Al slowly fell asleep. The Halloween dream continued a little confused…

* * *

"All clear. Come!" Arnie whispered to Eddie. It was past 11 PM, and they were nearing the DIY shop.

"Arnie, I'm still not sure we should…"

"Eddie, we've already been over this."

The blonde boy nodded. They are best friends, they will make it to the end now…

As Arnie slowly walked towards the shop's door with the pistol in hand, Eddie followed him, grasping tightly the huge hedge trimmer Arnie gave him. Though he still found the fireworks to be a stupid idea, he couldn't say no to Arnie. His best friend always had some sort of exciting aura, and Eddie used to be a follower rather than a leader. By no means a coward, but he lacked the qualities to dominate others. With Arnie, they've been friends ever since middle school, though they weren't yet in the same class back then; after Arnie helped Eddie crafting practically everything on the extra DIY lessons and Eddie read the most boring compulsory reading in his place and told him all about its contents, they became inseparable. Along with their traits, also their looks were strikingly different: Arnie's coffee-coloured skin, black hair and dark eyes formed a neat contrast with Eddie's pallor, blonde hair and blue eyes. They were undoubtedly an odd couple, but maybe they stood by each other always, never giving up exactly because of this. The 10./C had a much more weird couple anyway, Rose and Martha, so Arnie and Eddie didn't stick out too much.

"But Arnie, what if they see us?"

"Um, yeah, I need some light. Wait…" luckily the DIY shop's door wasn't locked. He entered shading his torch with his hand. There was a single, long window on the other side of the building, the moonlight didn't enter.

"It'd be okay, Eddie" he said after exiting "here, take my pistol."

"But Arnie! You'd be defenseless inside!"

"Eddie, you'll be a more easy target out here."

"But I…"

"I know, I know! But even with that, you won't make it far with this hedge trimmer!"

Eddie kept it even after taking the pistol from Arnie.

"Arnie…"

"I'll make everything inside, then take it to the back garden, you know, the one with the fence and the sandbags. I'll be here around midnight, in 20 or 30 minutes. You… um, guard the door from afar, maybe from among those trees."

Eddie nodded.

"In front of the entrance" said Arnie "you can watch over it well."

"Fine. Please…"

"I'll be careful, and everything will be all right. If you don't see me even after the midnight news… don't come after me. I'll be finishing by then!"

* * *

"Hey, Bel, look over there!" Darla glanced outside the window, from which they could clearly see the DIY shop.

"What's there?" Belinda swallowed the last bite of her sandwich.

"There, near the shop… the DIY one, remember?"

"I don't see anything…"

"Now, me neither, but before… like a light…"

"Maybe the moonlight?"

"No! I think I have seen a figure…"

"Then, an enemy! Let's stay here!"

"And what if it's poor Lily? Or maybe… Eddie?"

"Little chance of that, Darla. Stay here… and remember! Nick, I say, _Nick_ killed Mary! I wouldn't trust anyone right now!"

Darla looked down, at the knife and the sickle hanging on her belt. Then she slowly put the baseball bat on the window-sill.

"Don't go there!" Belinda grabbed her arm.

"Bel…"

"They'll kill you, Darla! And what am I gonna do without you?!"

"I just wanna see who's there!"

"And what are you gonna do, if, say, there's that crazy Rory with a machine gun?! That girl or goodness know what would kill without any hesitation, and she would even love it, the sadistic lesbo bitch! I bet she's the one who suprised Lily and the others, too!"

"Look!"

Belinda looked out too. The DIY shop's window shone slightly.

"Bel, I'm going there."

"No! Please, I beg you!"

Darla slightly touched the MAC10 hanging on her friend's shoulder.

"Guard me."

"But…"

"Just follow me. I don't think there are better weapons around anyway. I'll just take a peek inside!"

* * *

Meanwhile, Eddie stood among the trees, focusing his attention on the entrance. There was nobody around, no suspicious movement anywhere. Arnie didn't close the door, and needed light as well, but Eddie didn't notice anyting special.

* * *

Arnie put his flashlight on the counter inside, and turned it towards the wall, so it couldn't be seen from outside (or, at least, only slightly), but he could find the rockets and firework material easily. There wasn't much left until midnight, when he finally put them neatly in a circle, and placed the one he made himself among them too. All perfectly arranged on a rolling table.

Darla carefully approached the door, deciding she'd hold the sickle instead of the quite clumsy bowie knife.

Eddie couldn't just stand in one place all along. He felt his nerves trembling, but just standing around made him even more tense. He began to walk around silently, even turning away from the DIY shop's door for a few seconds.  
_Nobody's there…_

Darla, thanks to her small stature and thin frame, quickly snuck inside the shop. Just peering in wouldn't be too clever, she decided in the end.

Belinda, keeping the MAC10 ready, stood in the shade of the shop's wall. She was fearing for her friend's life.  
_Unless it's Lily, Eddie, George or any other normal person…  
…__if someone dares hurting her, they're dead!!!_

Arnie didn't notice anything. Darla, with the sickle in hand, stood frozen in a corner. She didn't recognize the figure; she didn't even see if it was a boy or girl, having just seen their movements. What if she says something, and gets a full magazine of bullets in her stomach?!

Arnie walked back to the fine tower of rockets, and pulled out a box of matches, then proceeded to push the rolling table out to the fenced back graden, where they kept also the sandbags. He wanted to turn the flashlight downwards, as to see the ground well (he didn't want to bump into anything), but when he touched it on the counter, it accidentally rolled around. It was then he noticed Darla. The girl didn't care any more: Arnie was still in shade, but she has been seen! She tried to run away, but accidentally kicked over a can full of gasoline. It bumped against one of the sharp metal shelves closeby (full of small boxes with nails), and a tiny hole ripped out on its side. The gasoline began to pour out, wetting Darla's shoe, but she was too scared to notice.

"Darla!" Arnie whispered "what are you doing here?"

The boy quite liked Darla, who loved Eddie's stories as much as he did, and was a cute girl as well. He had no idea that it was totally different the other way round, that Darla hated him guts.

Darla's blood froze.  
_He's gonna kill me!!! Why, oh, why didn't I listen to Bel?!_

She got so scared that she didn't notice that by then, also her thin white socks got wet.

"Wait a minute. Run!" Arnie pulled out a long match "don't be afraid… Darla, you're not playing, are you?"

There were barely two minutes left until midnight. Arnie, glancing at Darla from the corner of his eye, finally pushed the table out to the back garden, and lit the fuse. Then he stood up and blew the match, though he still kept the box in hand.  
_He wants to burn me alive!!!_

"Run!" Arnie grabbed Darla's shoulders.

"Noooo!!! You're not gonna kill meee!!!" something clicked inside Darla, and she planted the sickle in Arnie's chest with all her strength.

The boy let out a small whine, and fell on his back. Darla panted, her hands soaked with blood.  
_Did I kill him?_

Strangely enough, she felt no guilt at all.

Slowly, she decided to look at what the boy was up to. As she stepped into the back garden, a spark from the fuse fell on her shoe.

_Arnie, what's taking so long?!  
Eddie looked at his watch nervously._

"AAAAAAAHHH!!!"

At the scream, both Eddie and Belinda rose their heads.

Darla's shoe and sock was burning violently, the fuse kept on shortening, and, as Darla tried to run, she accidentally stepped into a pool of gasoline..

Along with a thunder-like sound, flames engulfed Darla's both legs. She tried in vain to kick off her shoes, but by then also her jeans caught fire.

_No! No! I can't die like this!!_

She just got outside, when the gasoline can exploded. Darla fell on her belly, the flames reaching her sleeveless shirt.

"Aaaah!!! No…!!! AAAAAARGH!!! Aaaah…"

Both Belinda and Eddie looked at the burning figure in a daze, neither realizing the tragedy unfolding in front of their eyes.

A moment later, a series of explosions was heard, and, one after the other, several rockets shot up to the summer night sky, shining and turning into blooming flowers of all the colours of the rainbow. Wonderful fireworks shone upon the island.

"Fireworks?" Lindsay sat up.  
"Come on, Linnie, where the hell do you live?!" Daniel looked at her sternly "these are killing each other!"  
"Look!" Lindsay pointed out of the window.

Just as, in his dream, Arnie lit the rockets, Al was awoken by real explosions.  
"Come noooooooooooow!!!"  
Al ran up to the roof, where he found Willie waiting for him, wearing only an undershirt and boxers adorned with yellow smileys.

George looked out of the sport centre's window, and, once again realizing he could not jump down from such height, ran down the stairs and out into the night. What was going on?

Nick picked up the sword, and sprinted southwards from zone B9.

Martha pulled closer to Rose, who dropped the cigarette from her mouth in surprise.

Maddie looked at the lights from the window of the tiny hut.  
"_C'est simplement magnifique…_"

Lily rose her tear-soaked face; she didn't understand what was happening.

Gabriel, completely terrified, hugged his shoulders and crouched even lower.

That moment, Miss Durham's voice was heard.  
"Aww, thanks for the lovely midnight show, and it isn't even Halloween! News coming in just now, oh my! So, the dead ones! Boys: number two, Jacob Anderson; number seven, Arnold Ledger. Girls: number one, Josephine Anderson; number ten, Darla Peterson. Now for the danger zones: from 1 AM, H9; from 3 AM, G6; from 5 AM, A5.

"Arnie!" Eddie stepped out.

"Nooooooooooooooooo!!!" shouted Belinda. Standing over Darla's slightly smouldering body, she suddenly saw Eddie, standing about twenty metres away… and, almost in a delirium, sent a spray of bullets in his belly.

Eddie flew backwards, and landed on his back. The hedge trimmer fell beside him.

_I killed Darla's love… what will she say…? Darla… what's with you? Darla… Josh… Josh…_

The world was spinning around her. She could still see Darla's cheerful smile, the girls' nights with Lily and the others, the rock concerts…

She reached Eddie's motionless body staggering. _Darla…_

_His weapons… Darla…_

Belinda just leant over him, when Eddie suddenly opened his eyes, picked up the open hedge trimmer, and stuck both blades in the girl's eyes.

"Aah…!" the blades entering her brain through her eyes immediately killed Belinda.

Eddie massaged his aching stomach, and wiped the bloody sticky fluid that came out of the girl's eyes off his face.

"Bleah!"

At least, his bulletproof vest worked just fine.

George saw everything from among the bushes. Or well, not everything, just Eddie killing Belinda, and the MAC10 dropping to the ground.  
_Oh wow, such a great weapon…!_

___Slowly… slowly…_

Eddie heard a click. He was about to turn around, when he heard the shot and felt the bullet hitting his back. He knew he'd better fake death, or the other one might shoot him in the head next. So he threw himself on his stomach immediately.

George knew the fireworks would attract many people… and he wasn't invincible, either. He picked up the MAC10, and ran off. Eddie lay with his eyes closed; George only gave him one look, seemingly not remembering the PE classes, the amazing soccer matches, or the compulsory readings read for everyone.

Eddie, as the sound of George's steps died down, jumped up, and took out Arnie's pistol. But he couldn't see the boy any more.

The reality of Arnie's death hadn't yet sunk in fully. His best friend, the one who always was by his side when he needed him… Arnie was simply always there. He couldn't die, that was all.

He panted, his nerves nearly wrecking. Then, all of a sudden, he thought he heard something from behind his back again…

He had no time to turn around. A whisk, and Eddie fell. As he hit the ground, his head ripped off his body.

Nick lowered the bloody sword, and leant down to take the pistol. Finally he got a gun, but, more important, he was to become almost invulnerable.

Once he had stripped Eddie of his bulletproof vest, he checked the map in the moonlight, and decided. He went to the north, later following the shore. After a long, slow path he arrived to the mountain, and kept on walking at its feet.

**Boy #7 Ledger, Arnold - eliminated**

**Boy #8 McGrant, Edward - eliminated**

**Girl #10 Peterson, Darla - eliminated**

**Girl #15 Sykes, Belinda - eliminated**

**11 contestants remaining**

* * *

**Oh, and before you start asking questions: I never once mentioned what Eddie's weapon was, though there were slight hints here and there. Arnie took the hedge trimmer from the shop, and gave it to him.**

* * *

**Maddie's French sentence = "It's just wonderful"**

* * *

**Okay, 4 deaths! Sorry if this was long... now, the last 11 remain - the next chapter, up very soon, will only consist of their profiles, and my question is: who do you think will win? Like, you might really like "Character X", but maybe they are a weakling, so "Character Y" might be more likely to win. **


	21. Profiles

**The profile chapter is here! The "conclusions" might be wrong, remember... however, please vote in the new poll! And tell me about any predictions!**

* * *

**The Training - set in May 2002.

* * *

**

**Boy #1 George Adams**

_Born:_ San Francisco, CA, February 11th, 1985 (Pisces)

_Looks:_ Very dark brown, slightly curly hair cut short, dark eyes.

_Height:_ 168 cm.

_Weight:_ 66 kg.

_Qualities:_ Strong physique and determination; little empathy (which is a good quality in a game like this). Not a coward by any means, usually steps out to face any threat.

_Weaknesses:_ Too self-confident and hot-headed. Zero tolerance for contradiction, as he thinks he is always right. Usually doesn't learn from major mistakes; also a weak student (oldest in class because he was held back after having failed Literature).

_Opinion of a Jefferson High School staff member:_ (Miss Gautier, French teacher) "Doesn't excel at school, what can I say. But has the aura of a natural leader, even teachers feel he's a determining member in any class or group."

_Conclusions:_ Likely winner, unless his self-confidence causes him to overlook something.

* * *

**Boy #4 Gabriel Arthur Donaghy**

_Born:_ San Francisco, CA, May 2nd, 1986 (Taurus)

_Looks:_ Thick wavy golden blonde hair, light green eyes.

_Height:_ 179 cm.

_Weight:_ 68 kg.

_Qualities:_ Good physical shape, quite a bit of creativity. Highly qualified in performing arts, a talented actor and singer.

_Weaknesses:_ Care for tidiness and appearance that borders on the obsessive; weak stomach and tendence to run away and hide.

_Opinion of a Jefferson High School staff member:_ (Miss Novak, leader of the school choir and the theatre club) "Gifted in every sense of the word. Wonderful voice, great appearance, high IQ. Prince Charming, no wonder the girls go crazy over him! Has a brilliant career before him, whatever path he might choose."

_Conclusions:_ Not too many chances of winning, as being handsome and singing like a god don't really count in a game like this; plus, getting down and dirty may eventually cause him to snap.

* * *

**Boy #10 Daniel Scovell**

_Born:_ San Francisco, CA, August 13th, 1985 (Leo)

_Looks:_ Short light blonde hair, light blue eyes. Glasses.

_Height:_ 169 cm.

_Weight:_ 63 kg.

_Qualities:_ Empathy, patience, good coordination of movement, high endurance. Best male student in class.

_Weaknesses:_ Kindness, trust in others' good nature. Girl #5, Carter.

_Opinion of a Jefferson High School staff member:_ (Mr. Adrian, head of the dance club) "I've never seen a boy capable of leading a girl in any kind of dance more confidently that he does. His movements are just perfect, he seems to be in control of everything when he dances. As I know him as fairly quiet, probably he can loosen up at the sound of music, as I know he used to play the piano as well."

_Conclusions:_ Strong bonds and friendliness add up to utter fail. Very little chances of winning.

* * *

**Boy #13 Alistair Mark Vine**

_Born:_ San Francisco, CA, October 2nd, 1985 (Libra)

_Looks:_ Straight light red hair, sky-blue eyes. Glasses.

_Height:_ 138 cm.

_Weight:_ 40 kg.

_Qualities:_ Talented musician and generally a well-liked person. Grade schooler-like looks and tiny frame make him able to seem innocent and avoid or dodge attacks. Good runner and quite athletic.

_Weaknesses:_ Even too gentle and trusting. Shy nature due to his rather abnormal height; definitely not suited for any kind of challenging battle.

_Opinion of a Jefferson High School staff member:_ (Miss Lacombe, music teacher) "Not as gifted as Wosley, but definitely a good musician, though not planning to pursue this career. In short, a clever, sweet boy whom is nice to have around."

_Conclusions:_ Irrelevant. May survive only out of extremely good luck.

* * *

**Boy #14 John Nicholas Wallace**

_Born:_ New York City, NY, May 19th, 1985 (Taurus)

_Looks:_ Shoulder-length, straight blonde hair, pale blue eyes.

_Height:_ 187 cm.

_Weight:_ 77 kg.

_Qualities:_ Excels at sports, most likely the physically strongest (and definitely the tallest) student in class, beside Girl #8, German. Cool thinker, and good at moving silently. Also has a sharp eye, and notices small signs even if it may seem he doesn't (like the feelings of Girl #12, Rogan).

_Weaknesses:_ Egocentric; too much confidence due to a string of successes.

_Opinion of a Jefferson High School staff member:_ (Mr. Knaves, PE teacher) "I am extremely proud of Wallace, our Nick is definitely a born champion! I just wish he would pursue this career, if he does, he'll have a brilliant future as a professional basketball player."

_Conclusions:_ Definitely a winner. May be eliminated only if it is a matter of better or worse weapons, and maybe bad luck.

* * *

**Boy #15 William Matthew Wosley**

_Born:_ Sacramento, CA, December 16th, 1985 (Sagittarius)

_Looks:_ Pale brown hair, green eyes. Unnecessary thick-framed glasses.

_Height:_ 171 cm.

_Weight:_ 64 kg.

_Qualities:_ Out of the ordinary ways of thinking, unusually high creativity and geniality. Already a talented composer.

_Weaknesses:_ High chances of becoming obsessed or simply going crazy. Too trusting and a bit off in his own world.

_Opinion of a Jefferson High School staff member:_ (Miss Lacombe, music teacher) "Class clown, a total freak. But undoubtedly a genius."

_Conclusions:_ Unpredictable; may be eliminated early on or go for a wildcard win.

* * *

**Girl #2 Madeleine Marie-Céline Beaumont**

_Born:_ Avignon, Provence, France, September 14th, 1985 (Virgo)

_Looks:_ Thick curly black hair, dark blue eyes.

_Height:_ 176 cm.

_Weight:_ 60 kg.

_Qualities:_ Objective view of things, might border on cynicism. Good physical shape and ability to focus her attention on important matters. Great at intimidating.

_Weaknesses:_ Might easily overlook things she considers unimportant; too much confidence in intimidation; relatively little patience.

_Opinion of a Jefferson High School staff member:_ (late Mr. Harvey, English teacher) "Quick wits and a sharp eye. Apart from that… she can't do too much about that, but might be even too beautiful for her own good."

_Conclusions:_ High chances of survival, unless utter fail in that intimidation or mere bad luck.

* * *

**Girl #3 Lily Charlotte Bell**

_Born:_ Los Angeles, CA, June 12th, 1985 (Gemini)

_Looks:_ Long, straight brownish blonde hair sometimes tied in a single high ponytail, grey eyes.

_Height:_ 161 cm.

_Weight:_ 50 kg.

_Qualities:_ Athletic and strong physique, great endurance; clever and quick-witted. Strong personality, model-like looks. Best female student in class, along with Girl #9, Miller.

_Weaknesses:_ Holds on maniacally to "social status"; lacks self-confidence deep inside. Being trendy isn't a strength in this game, either.

_Opinion of a Jefferson High School staff member:_ (late Mr. Harvey, English teacher) "She's a straight A+ student, and is indeed pretty and trendy, but perhaps too self-centered. I mean, she shows openly that she thinks she's the centre of the universe."

_Conclusions:_ Might seem a born winner, though, should all she considers so important fade away, likely to crack.

* * *

**Girl #5 Lily Lindsay Carter**

_Born:_ Mill Valley, CA, December 20th, 1985 (Sagittarius)

_Looks:_ Shoulder-length dark brown hair usually tied in two low ponytails, brown eyes.

_Height:_ 172 cm.

_Weight:_ 62 kg.

_Qualities:_ Quick thinking, creativity. Unusually fast and brilliant thinker when under pressure.

_Weaknesses:_ Quite a failure at any kind of sport, lacks physical endurance. Needs about 1-2 hours of more sleep than the average teenager, probably due to her anemia; lack of rest might induce bizarre physical symptoms. Severe arachnophobia. Boy #10, Scovell, and Boy #13, Vine.

_Opinion of a Jefferson High School staff member:_ (Mrs. Moody, Literature teacher) "Her writings really are powerful. It is very likely she has more in herself than she shows."

_Conclusions:_ Any of her weaknesses may cause her elimination. Still, with luck on her side, and counting that being the undeservingly victimised class outcast she doesn't really have any friends, there is a slight chance of a wildcard victory.

* * *

**Girl #8 Rose Violet Poppy Daisy German**

_Born:_ San Francisco, CA, July 29th, 1985 (Leo)

_Looks:_ Shoulder-length fiery red hair, usually held back with a clip; poison green eyes. Often wears shades.

_Height:_ 185 cm.

_Weight:_ 75 kg.

_Qualities:_ Exceptional physical strength, very quick reflexes. Strongest student in class, beside Boy #14, Wallace.

_Weaknesses:_ Hot-headed and not very careful, unless held back by her most outstanding weakness, Girl #9, Miller; anyone threatening her causes her to fall in a furious rage. Can sometimes be classified as even too brave and daring. Nicotine addiction.

_Opinion of a Jefferson High School staff member:_ (Mr. Bell, science teacher) "Unexpectedly gentle and careful with delicate objects and small animals. Despite this, I don't think her tomboyish behaviour is just show. She's and odd girl, but fine just as she is."

_Conclusions:_ Her rage against anyone hurting Girl #9 makes her an ideal winner even if said girl is to be eliminated. Even without that, she's in for a victory.

* * *

**Girl #9 Martha Keira Miller**

_Born:_ San Francisco, CA, April 9th, 1986 (Aries)

_Looks:_ Long light blonde hair, brown eyes. Glasses.

_Height:_ 166 cm.

_Weight:_ 57 kg.

_Qualities:_ Very intelligent and careful, good at solving unexpected problems that might arise; also a great pacifier. High medical knowledge, best female student in class, along with Girl #3, Bell.

_Weaknesses:_ Lacks physical strength; is way too kind-hearted. In perilous circumstances, tends to depend on Girl #8, German.

_Opinion of a Jefferson High School staff member:_ (Mr. Elias, math teacher) "She's witty and clever, can solve anything in an amazingly short time. Yet is never boastful; her dream of becoming a doctor is surely achievable, and I wish her the best of luck."

_Conclusions:_ Shall Girl #8, German be eliminated, she will probably not last very long afterwards.


	22. Not a night to die

**Sorry for the long wait! No deaths for now, but the next chapter, up soon, will include a really shocking one! From now on, chapters will have titles and theme songs. :)

* * *

**

_/A million stars light_

_This beautiful night_

_This is not a night to die_

_Let me sing and dance_

_Beneath the sky_

_I have such love to give_

_I want a chance to live/_

_(Céline Dion: Live)_

* * *

"Al, have you slept enough?"

"Um, kinda…" Al was still a little shocked by the recent fireworks "was that Arnie?"

"Will you let me sleep then?"

"But… oh."

Willie's wide open eyes were all teary from sleepiness.

"Go then."

"Thanks" Willie walked down the stairs from the roof, fell into the lovely, pink bed, and fell asleep immediately.

Al dressed up, then walked to the piano on the ground floor. Willie had written some more into his composition, but it was far from complete yet. Al knew that if he tried to play it, no matter how tired Willie was, he would run down and stop him, so he limited himself to imagining it. Not bad, not bad at all, though he could feel something missing, too. The spark of life, the one which turns a simple good piece of music into a masterpiece. Everything was there, the chance, the possibility. But the last notes needed to come spontaneously.

* * *

"Rory, will you put it off?"

"Oh, sorry…" Rose stubbed the cigarette out.

"They can't be very far" Martha pulled her legs up "what if they see us?"

"Let's stay here, it's better than wandering off."

Martha nodded.

The starlight reflected on the small pond's surface. It was a quiet, warm late spring's night, nothing moved.

The two girls felt somewhat safe.

* * *

"Giorgio! Oh, Giorgio, Giorgio!" since Lily began to take Italian classes, she always called her boyfriend that "Giorgio!"

She cried hysterically, hugging a tree, somewhere around the mountain's northern slope, in zone B5. She heard the news at midnight, and learnt she was almost completely alone. Only she remained of the six members of Clan Lily. She didn't know about Belinda's death yet, but all those shots, the fireworks, the explosions… she only trusted Bel, but mostly George, the one who she was sure still loved her. George, the dear Giorgio was her only hope; he couldn't possibly betray her. It didn't matter even she didn't bother to keep track of the two of them dating or being through, George will surely understand her.

_If only he would be here with me…_

Yes, if George would have seen the signal as well (he was sitting in the front row, so he couldn't), nothing horrible would have happened…

It didn't matter George exited the school among the last ones, Madeleine being first; Lily didn't care, she just wanted to find George… doesn't matter at what cost. Her hand was getting numb, as she held the AK-47 tight. If she were to find George, everything would turn out well…

In fact, George wasn't event that far from her, in zone E5, namely, looking satisfied at his weapons. He híd in some bushes north from the wheatfields, as to not be noticeable. No matter the MAC10, the Colt Single Action Army, the knife (its blade was still bloody), the pepper spray and the sulfuric acid, he had to watch his back. Those weapons were also tempting to anyone willing to play.

* * *

"Danny?"

"Yes?"

Lindsay stared sadly at the empty screen of the palmtop, and the pale moonlight shining on the class roster on the bedside table. She didn't know Eddie and Belinda were gone yet, but anyway, they were only in thirteen, which was horribly few…

"Did you think as well that everyone was out to get you?"

Daniel shook his head.

"No way. Like Nick and Gabriel, they're my friends, and you, and…

"Lucky you."

"Linnie…?"

"Honestly, do you think I have any friends apart from you?"

"Dora…"

"Well, ever since I said I had enough of Cait, she refused to talk to me…"

"But the girls…"

"Lily and the gang. Wonderful! They never let me join them in anything, even if they were discussing music or movies. They took me in in Truth or Dare at Halloween only to find out who was the boy I liked…"

"You kept your secret quite well, though."

"Danny, I… I just want to belong somewhere! Did you ever see me chat with others during breaks?"

Daniel wondered about this for a few seconds. True, Lindsay always spent the breaks wandering on the corridor alone, maybe reading or drawing doodles.

"And after all this is over…"

"So you want to win?"

"No!" Lindsay grasped her palmtop "I… I don't know how it came… sorry. Just… I can't even understand it… I want to do so many things… and Kelly…"

"Well, it seems you do have friends after all!"

"But she doesn't even go to our school!"

"Um, right…"

"I… I can't believe I might have less than a day left! I want to stargaze, finish my paintings, go to the movies with Kelly… and… and I want to feel love…"

Daniel heard his friend's voice cracking.

"Linnie…" he sat beside her, and hugged her.

She let him. Her best friend was her only sure point in this game. She swallowed her tears, and laid her head on his shoulder. As long as she had Daniel, with whom she climbed trees as a child, they laughed at birthday parties, spent New Year's Eve together as well, and talked a lot on family meetings as well, nothing bad could happen.

She found herself thinking she didn't even count, in the other's eyes. But, as an eternal optimist, she also realized this meant the others didn't even think about checking if she was alive or not.

Daniel felt sorry for Lindsay, but felt a little uneasy, as he listened to her problems like that. Of course, she could always count on his embrace, if she was scared. But better not to talk… what could he have said? He felt the girl's body stop trembling. Though he got used to Lindsay's sudden changes in attitude, he was astonished to see her smile up at him, eyes shining.

"You know, Danny, _class outcast_ doesn't necessarily mean _loser_!"

A few minutes later, Lindsay was standing at the window, looking at the stars, visible to the north, over the sea. She could see Daniel's reflection sitting behind her, on the bed.

_The bed… maybe it's better if I get some sleep…_

Lindsay laid on the bed, first loosening her hair.

_She looks like an angel._

Daniel looked down at her, then walked to the chair on the other end of the room and sat down, deep in dark thoughts. Then he picked up the crossbow… no way. He couldn't do it.

_How could I…?_

Linnie. One of the pillars of his life. The girl he loved as a sister, maybe even more; the girl he could never have. But that was definitely no reason to kill her. And were Lindsay to die, Daniel's heart would break.

He didn't know Lindsay wasn't yet sleeping. She had seen everything, including the arrow pointing at her.

* * *

Madeleine opened her eyes some time after 3 AM. She was sleepy enough when the fireworks started, but when it was over, she was pretty sure everyone was wandering around where they were set off. She fell asleep shortly after, resting her head on her backpack. She held the Browning tight, sure to defend herself; she had gotten pretty used to it.

She rubbed her eyes and sat up. Not too many left, and two were off the list thanks to her! Becky wasn't really a pity, her IQ lingering around zero, but Madeleine was sure she would always miss Fran, the beloved Françoise. Of course, if she were to survive. She had two weapons, but, despite not being a weak girl, she wouldn't go far with the axe. The pistol was definitely much better.

She brushed some dust off her yellow skirt, and walked out to move her numb legs a little. Quiet, open land, the plants on the wheatfields slightly moving in the breeze.

Now, she wasn't going to win as a coward! Madeleine Beaumont would win as a proud girl!

_Win…?_

"_Non_…"

A scarecrow stared down at her emptily.

Trust! But trust… even Hannah must have trusted Fran…

_Pourquoi? Pourquoi…?_

Madeleine was sure this whole was driving her crazy. She would always try to make sense of things.

But the Training had no sense at all.

* * *

Gabriel was awoken by a large moth landing on his hand. At first, he got so scared that he almost struck down with the crowbar, but luckily realized in time that it was only a moth, and it would be of no use trying to break his own wrist.

He stood up panting heavily. His thick blonde hair, which used to be silky and wavy, and through which 99 percent of the girls would have loved to run their fingers (apart from Martha, Josie and Susan had crushes on him as well, though he seemed not to notice), now stuck to his head messily, dirtily, sticky with blood around his right temple. He had fallen asleep in a tiny dead end shortly after the fireworks ended, almost fainting. He had no backpack any more, just a damned crowbar, and, hungry and thirsty as he was, most likely doomed to die very soon.

His throat was achingly dry… what about the pond then? The one in the park back home was dirty, full of junk and of a disgusting dark green colour, but what about this one, in zone C7? From zone D7, he began to walk northwards, to reach it.

* * *

Meanwhile, to Rose's relief, Martha finally seemed to be really sleeping. The taller girl, being tough, had no desperate need of rest. She quickly washed her face in the cool water of the pond, as not to get sleepy at all. Then she picked out the cream Martha gave her, pulled her shirt up, and greased her darkening bruises.

The pond's still surface gleamed in the moonlight.

* * *

_Water!_

Gabriel reached his goal. There were only a few trees and some bushes, and the water didn't seem dirty at all, oh, thank goodness, no Coke bottles and cans floating in it…

He knew he had to be careful, though, he couldn't run. He rose the crowbar, and walked towards the shore looking around. Then he saw a figure kneeling.

_It's over! No!_

The figure turned aroung, Gabriel rose the crowbar higher.

"Now now, are you sure about this?" a long harpoon shone in the other's hand.

_Rose…!_

"Uhm…" he had seen the legendary Rory far too many times to know she wasn't one to mess with; it had no sense to run away, though, and maybe meet some keen players like George, but this girl seemed eager to kill as well.

"What do you want? You can still go, if you want to."

"Um, I'd like to drink…"

"Go ahead then, but don't blame me, if you get some infection."

"Is it… dirty?"

"I don't know, can't see well in the dark. But I don't think so."

Gabriel was left a bit awkward. He walked to the shore, suspicious about Rose's odd behaviour.

"Just a minute: give me that" Rose reached a hand out for the crowbar.

"But I don't…"

"Give it to me, then we can be sure."

_We?! Does Rory keep her whole army here, maybe Nick and some others?!_

"So, what are you waiting for?" Rose pointed the harpoon right at Gabriel's chest.

"You'll kill me from behind!"

"If you give me a reason, I will."

Normally, Rose wouldn't have spent such a long time negotiating with a possible killer, but simply get them to flee. However, this time it was none other than _Gabriel_. If he escapes, Rose would have regretted not telling Martha, and thus not giving her the chance to see, perhaps for the last time, the boy she loved. And if she killed him, what would Martha say?

"Wait!" that sweet, kind voice rang like a silver bell "is it better if you give it to me instead? And yes, Rory, I slept, but you two woke me up!"

Gabriel turned around to see Martha, holding her hand out smiling. He didn't fail to notice the pickaxe hanging in her other hand, though.

_If I attack one, the other kills me… great._

He kinda liked Martha, for she couldn't hurt a fly. But Rose… will her friend hold her back?

He nodded, and handed Martha his only weapon. Then he walked to the shore, and drank a little from his hand.

"Don't you get some disease!" Martha placed a hand on his shoulder "here, take this!"

She handed him a bottle of water.

"Mart!"

"Come on, Rory, we've got enough!"

Rose knew that if it wasn't Gabriel, Martha wouldn't have given him as much as a sip of their water supply.

Gabriel was still a little suspicious, but drank happily nonetheless.

"Thanks" he was polite enough not to drink too much.

Rose thanked the heavens it was dark; she was sure Martha's blush would have been obvious in daylight, especially when Gabriel walked back to her.

The boy felt like this was enough.

"Here, take your water back. I'll be on my way now. Oh, can I have my crowbar back?"

"Is it your only weapon?" Martha looked at him sadly. The blood on Gabriel's shirt wasn't visible at night.

"Not everyone is lucky, Mart" Rose kept on eyeing Gabriel with distrust "even we began quite poorly."

_So they have already killed… but me too. Doesn't matter any more…_

Gabriel reached out for the crowbar, but Martha suddenly – getting all her courage together – dropped it to the ground, and grabbed the boy's hands.

"Stay with us!"

"Mart, are you crazy?!"

"He's not like that, Rory!"

"Remember the church!"

"But he… he's different!"

Gabriel felt really weird, with two girls standing around him discussing his personality.

"Can I stay?"

"Yes!

"No!"

_Just wonderful…_

"Keep the crowbar, Martha."

Gabriel felt only then how jaded he was.

"Can I sleep?"

This surprised Rose a little. If Gabriel feared them, he would flee instead of asking such things. But he could still be a threat to them…

"Okay, I don't mind" she sighed in the end "but don't expect me to doze off!"


	23. Abandoned flower

**Don't kill me for this one. Fast post, I know, but I won't be updating so frequently any more. Please review.**

**As for the French sentences in this one: the ones between slashes are translations of bits of the song. Others: Qu'ext-ce que c'est?=what's that?; une fleur=a flower; Va=go; Jamais=never; Au revoir, mademoiselle=Goodbye/see you later, miss.**

**

* * *

**

_/An abandoned flower_

_The ones the others left by_

_Not new enough, not enough_

_When your place is outside_

_Only these sentences remain_

_Like a treasure island_

_The last ones will become first_

_In the other reality/_

_(Céline Dion: Les derniers seront les premiers – translation)_

_

* * *

_

Lily crouched under a larger tree, her whole body shaking like a leaf. At least she had stopped screaming hysterically, having still enough will to live to be careful, as not to attract attention. She had a Beretta, with five or six bullets left, a huge Kalashnikov with lots of ammunition, and also water and bread. So, if she just stayed there, she could even survive. But she knew too well that, were she to return home, there would not be any more girls' nights at Belinda's, meeings at Kristen's, or wild parties with George…

"Giorgio…"

Suddenly she heard footsteps. She held the pistol tighter, and pulled herself together even more. The sounds were coming from the bottom of the slope. As a tall figure appeared, Lily realized it could be only Nick. He didn't seem to notice her though, as it was barely dawning. She could see the boy held a long sword and a pistol as well.

_Did he kill…? But… I did too… Susie… Krissie… Pete…_

Lily began to feel like everyone was merrily playing, while she was nothing more than a failure doomed to die very soon.

Nick, after a long walk, finally settled in a rickety shed in zone E5, without knowing, of course, that barely fifty metres from his hideout, there were two dead bodies lying in a house with a broken door.

He found himself wondering about what he was going to do, once the game was over. Well, he'll go home. Then attend classes at school. Play basketball…

But he killed. So… not the same class, not the same teachers, and not the same basketball team.

He let out a puff of air.

_Who cares. It'll work out._

_

* * *

_

"Good morning!" shouted Miss Durham merrily "better to wake up, dearies! So, we have two deaths: boy number eight, Edward McGrant, and girl number fifteen, Belinda Sykes.

Lily screamed, then covered her mouth.

_I'm alone! Alone! Giorgio! Giorgio, please, take me away…_

"As for the danger zones: from 7 AM, F4; from 9 AM, G3; from 11 AM, A9.

* * *

Madeleine exited the small hut, for, being zone F4, she was in the middle of a danger zone. Looking at the map first, she made her way eastwards; when she thought she was for sure in zone F5, she sat down beside the wall of a small house. She put the axe on the ground beside her, not wanting to keep it in her backpack.

"_Qu'est-ce que c'est?_" she noticed something on the grass "_oh! Une fleur…_"

It was a tiny pink rose, an artificial flower.

"_Oh…_" Madeleine had no idea why she felt a sudden affection towards the small object.

_/Une fleur abandonné__e_

_Ce que les autres ont laissé de côté/_

Abandoned there. Poor little rose…

Madeleine remembered how nothing should be thrown away, and, given that this one had a few tears on its petals, was it discarded? Maybe? Not fresh and new, okay. But sweet.

_/Plus assez neuf, plus assez/_

This was the reason of her pride. Not her beauty or fairly high IQ, like many thought. She wasn't snobbish, like Clan Lily and generally envious people called her, just a little cold and stern, not willing to walk around half-naked like certain girls and party all night long. Drawn the right conclusions, Lily had all the rights to envy Madeleine, as the popular girl wasn't even that beautiful. She was merely sexy and using tons of make-up, but had a painfully average face – and was fully aware of it. Lindsay's, with those huge dark eyes, small nose and friendly smile outdistanced her by far, but who cared about her? Madeleine was the one Lily truly acknowledged as a threat, which increased especially after the French girl showed some level of scorn towards her, and had absolutely no intention of throwing herself at her feet or become one of her adoring group of so-called "friends", but more likely servants. It wasn't her beauty, undeniably out of the ordinary. But how her grandparents told her how they worked hard to be able to study, for they did not want to become simple farmer people like their parents. How they made it, through hard work, to be able to give her parents enough funds for higher education and more study. How François Beaumont, her father, became a first-class chemistry professor…

She wrapped the small rose in one of the buckles of her backpack, as a decoration.

Then, lost in her thoughts, she began playing with the huge golden cross in her neck. It was a gift from her grandmother, now still living in Lyon. A symbol of her faith.

* * *

As the sun rose, George left zone E5; he had no idea how lucky he was, not getting noticed by Nick, who at the moment was still resting in his shed. Going to the south, he planned to get to the shop to eat something other than bread.

Madeleine skulked against the wall, as she noticed George.

_Don't come this way!_

But George did, so they inevitably found themselves facing each other.

"Whoa… oh, hi, Maddie! What do you wanna do with _that_?" George smiled at her very reassuringly, with weapons enough for a smaller army.

"_Va_!" Madeleine didn't lower her pistol.

"Sorry?" George put his hand behind his ear with a gesture he saw in movies.

"Go away! I don't want to kill you."

"Oh? How nice of you. But what if I _do_ want to kill _you?_" and with that, George rose the MAC10.

"You don't darhe to shoot" said Madeleine after about five seconds, looking down at George, considerably shorter than her, with open scorn and disgust.

"Well, you don't look like you would either."

"Then, we should let each otherh simply go."

"Sorry, but I'm not turning my back on you, as long as you keep that pointed at me."

"I'm not leaving eitherh, before you lowerh that."

_Deadlock. One of us will die today._

"Hey, Maddie…" George, despite dating Lily Bell and getting her laid whenever he pleased, had heated erotic dreams about the most beautiful girl in class too "what if…"

"_Non_." Madeleine wasn't stupid, she knew what that spark in the boy's eyes meant.

"Then I'm afraid I'll have to shoot you dead."

"Just trhy it!"

George moved a step closer. Madeleine put her finger on the trigger.

"You know, Maddie, if I start this thing from such a short distance… the selaed coffin will be a blessing!"

"Well, Georhge…" George hated the way the French girl pronounced his name, pulling the _g_-s as softened _j_-s "I will thry it on you, if you darhe coming 'erhe."

George made another step forward, the distance between them becoming less than a metre and a half.

"_Va_."

"No."

Madeleine focused her eyes on the Ingram's barrel. George noticed this, and pulled out the pepper spray with a lightning-fast movement.

"What's th… aaah!" Madeleine quickly threw herself sideways on the ground, but lost the Browning as she did so.

George threw the spray away, and jumped on top of her.

"Don't you darhe!"

"Sorry, but you can't escape any more…" George's eyes flashed evilly as he grasped both of Madeleine's breasts.

A dark fire lit in the girl's eyes.

_You'll regret this forever! I'm not such an easy prey!_

She tried to punch him, but George took hold of her wrists. That moment, she kicked up, fully hitting the boy's sensitive spot with her knee.

"Owwww!!!" George weakened for a second, but not long enough for Madeleine to get to the Browning, for, as she was about to reach it, he pulled her back, almost ripping her light blue shirt.

Madeleine changed her tactic, and reached for the axe, but the boy hit her hand with full force.

"You won't get away so easily!" George felt his pants tighten at the sole thought of doing it with this almost supernatural beauty. If she was a virgin as she claimed, well, even better!

"_Jamais_!"

George pinned her on the ground again, but, before he could block her hands, she punched him in the face.

"Aah!" George's nose and upper lip began to bleed, and the girl kicked him in the groin again.

But this was too much. George, the trendy, bossy boy would not tolerate being humiliated like this. Not caring about the pain, he jumped at Madeleine and straddled her.

"Nobody's gonna look twice at you!"

Then, as he pulled out the bottle of sulfuric acid from his backpack, he said all that he remembered from the French classes:

"_Au revoir, mademoiselle_!"

He pulled the tap off, and poured all the liquid in Madeleine's face.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH!!!"

"Dammit, filthy whore!" a drop fell on his hand too. He jumped up, and looked at the girl only a second later.

Nothing could prepare him for the sight. He knew it was going to be horrible, but this…

The huge dark sapphire-blue eyes turned to empty orbits, the full lips burned down revealing teeth, the pale skin melting off like wax, almost rotting down, and all this accompanied by Madeleine's agonizing screams and moans, getting distorted as the acid ran down her throat, down to her lungs. Her body jerked in horrible pain, as her well-manicured nails dug into the ground.

Something clicked in George. He could have simply shot her, stabbed her, whatever. He angrily threw the empty bottle against the wall, shattering it. Several small shards of glass fell into Madeleine's messy, disentangled ebony black curls.

George, in his fit of rage and hatred of himself, gave a huge kick to the girl's backpack as well, before taking only the Beretta Hi-Power and walking off.

The small rose, by then abandoned forever, fell beside Madeleine's hand, as the acid sizzled on the huge golden cross, marring it.

_Une fleur abandonnée…_

**Girl #2 Beaumont, Madeleine – eliminated**

**10 contestants remaining**


	24. Angel

**University is hell. Here goes the next chapter!**

**

* * *

  
**

_I can fly_

_But I want his wings_

_I can shine even in the darkness_

_But I crave the light that he brings_

_Revel in the songs that he sings_

_My angel, Gabriel…_

_(Lamb: Gabriel)

* * *

_

Gabriel felt the sunrays tickling his closed eyelids.

_Damn it, not school again…_

He groaned and turned to his other side, but suddenly realized he wasn't lying on his bedsheets grasping his pillow, but on slightly dusty ground grasping an innocent bunch of grass. The Training!

He sat up, tired and feeling empty. Coming to think of it, he was the only student left alive who still didn't turn 16. Martha was peacefully sleeping a few metres from him, holding a crowbar. But where were the pickaxe and the harpoon? Really, where was Rose?

The boy looked around carefully: he sensed motion from behind the bushes forming a wall to his right. He silently crept there: was Rose killing somebody? Maybe cutting out a weapon?

No, she wasn't.

At the sight, a memory flashed in Gabriel's mind.

* * *

"Calm down, Rory, it's just this evening!"

"Ugh, Mart, I'm fine! Just… owww!"

"Sorry…"

It was a special night, the 10th grade students were hosting a ball night for Jefferson High's 50th anniversary. Most of the girls loved the long dresses, and looked nice and pretty in them. Even Lindsay got some compliments, and Dora managed not to look like a housewife. Maddie, of course, was stunning. Gabriel was just ready in his suit, bracing himself for the hordes of adoring girls, when he heard these noises from the girls' bathroom. What were Rose and Martha doing? Though, nothing could prepare him for what came shortly afterwards.

"There, your hair is ready, Rory. Let's go!"

Martha, wearing a light violet dress, stepped out, looking sweet and cute as always, her shiny blonde hair in a bun, with a little makeup on her face.

Then it happened.

Some unknown girl in a dark green dress, which just emphasized her amazing eyes showed up, wearing dark purple lipstick and black eyeliner, along with dangling clip earrings. Her wampy red, naturally slightly wavy hair fell loosely on her shoulders.

"I feel better with pants. How do you move in these? Damn the high heels…"

"Oh, Rory, you can't wear sneakers all the time! Come now! Oh, hi, Gabe!"

Gabriel stood frozen, and rose a hand waving at them shyly. _Rory?!_ Okay, used cliché, as in books and movies tomboys always look amazingly pretty when changing clothes, but this was just too much for him.

That night, he once managed to dance with the beautiful lady Rose Violet Poppy Daisy German. Only once. But that was far enough; he was lost.

* * *

Rose, completely unaware of Gabriel staring at her, was peacefully combing her hair as she knelt on the lakeshore, with her upper body naked, except for a sports bra. Her t-shirt was neatly folded on the ground, with her shades and hair-clip on top of it. She had already greased her bruises a while before, and was just ending her morning toilette.

To Gabriel, she was utterly beautiful; those well-toned, incredible muscles (for a girl) just made her even more captivating.

_Rory…_

"You! No spying on girls!"

"Uhhh…" Gabriel tried to hide, but he had been spotted.

Rose pointed the harpoon at him, the pickaxe lying at her feet.

"Ehhh… I…"

"What the hell, did you kill Mart?!"

"What the…?" the boy realized, that now, in daylight, his bloody shirt was much more noticeable.

"I'm fine! Rory, stop imagining things!" Martha showed up behind Gabriel.

"Okay then" Rose began fiddling with her hair-clip "I'll be there in a minute. And oh, Gabe, don't spy on girls dressing!"

"Bad boy!" giggled Martha, pulling the blushing boy away, then suddenly her voice turned scared "oh! Are you hurt?!"

"Oh… this? No…" Gabriel, still somewhat dazed, shook his head.

"Hm" Martha nodded, finding it better not to inquire about the bloodstains on the boy's shirt.

"Can I have this back?"

"Of course" Martha handed him the crowbar.

Gabriel looked at his weapon, deep in his thoughts. What could he do, sitting here with these two girls? Martha is looking at him dreamily, while Rose, oh, Rose… well, she could simply twist his neck off or drown him into the lake any second. For, even though George's attempt to kill him failed, Rory could still succeed…

He sighed; he didn't feel safe at all.

"Here, Mart, and don't trust him so much" Rose's shadow fell over them, as Martha took the pickaxe from her best friend.

"But Rory!"

"I'm serious" she was back to the usual Rose German, hair held back, shades, cigarette packet and lighter sticking out of her denim vest's pocket "now, let's have breakfast."

After some bread and water the two girls sat down, their backs against each other's. Rose lit a cigarette, Martha smiled and closed her eyes. Gabriel began feeling as if he was shut outside a hermetically closed little world. Rose, who had been so beautiful a few minutes before… Martha… well, apart from that long blonde hair, she wasn't anything special at all.

_What silly stuff I'm thinking about in the middle of a game like this!_

Gabriel had to restrain himself from whacking himself on the forehead as in school plays in which he usually starred, so in the end just shook his head.

"What's up, boy? Thrown away a plan to kill us?" a pair of poison green eyes cast him an evil stare, as Rose lifted up her shades.

Martha stayed silent, she found it better not to argue with Rose. She would find out eventually that Gabriel was a nice, good guy…

_Rose doesn't trust me at all, oh, Rose… but Martha, does she? Or is she faking it? Or…_

"What are you looking at so intently?" asked Rose "searching for the most ideal body part to crush?"

_Not a sign of trust, damn it._

Martha just kept on smiling, wondering about a bright future by Gabriel's side, once the three of them manage to run away.

Gabriel couldn't figure out what was going on, then suddenly his stare darkened.

_These two are planning to kill me._

His only weapon left was the crowbar, but how he wished he could use that pointy harpoon! But taking something from the great Rory bordered on the impossible, oh, Rose…

In the end he just sighed, and leaned against a tree. Maybe the best solution was to simply leave. But then he would end up dead for sure! To make it brief, Gabriel found himself struggling with a serious dilemma.

"Gabe!" said Martha suddenly "didn't you wash yourself this morning?"

_Do I stink, or what the hell?! Is she insulting me?!_

"Don't start to strip right here, okay? We don't need a chippendale show…" Rose blew out the smoke without even looking at him.

"No, but… uhhh…"

"Then you didn't."

"Oh come on, Mart, do you wish so much to see him naked?!"

Martha blushed furiously, but didn't stop.

"No way! I just… you need to wash each morning and…"

"Dear Gabe, I present you Dr. Miller."

"Right!" smiled Martha "but it's not only that, just take a look at yourself!"

_In what, exactly?!_

"Mart, I hardly think he's carrying a pocket mirror. Or is he? Are you, Gabe?"

_I'm out of here, this is too much!_

Gabriel was getting really frustrated, it didn't matter it was Rose who kept on saying such horrible things.

"Here, take mine!" Martha began searching in her backpack, then produced a small, heart-shaped makeup set, complete with mirror.

Gabriel was sure that, if any boy happened to see him, he would have to listen till the end of his life to the story about him looking at himself in a pink pocket-mirror, complete with light blush and eyeshadow in its bottom. Though Martha didn't seem to wear too much make-up…

The memory of Rose's dark purple lips flashed in his mind again.

He opened the mirror sighing: the sight was truly pitiful. Messy hair, sticky from sweat, blood and dirt, cheeks still red from the pepper spray, empty, baggy eyes… not the usual, pretty, angelic soloist, with a fine face, shiny golden blonde locks, lively light green eyes and a perfect smile. He looked at himself: his shirt was still bloodstained, his pants had several small tears. Like a broken down homeless person… he closed the mirror.

"Okay… I'm going."

"Where?" Rose pulled out a new cigarette.

"To wash myself, where else?!" so the boy, crowbar in hand, disappeared behind the bushes.

"Rory!" once he was out of earshot, Martha began to show her anger "but why? He's a nice boy, he doesn't want to hurt us!"

"It's over now, forget it. However, don't you think it's about time you tell him how you feel?"

Meanwhile, Gabriel took off his sports shirt, so he was left in his light orange sleeveless, then gathered some water in his hands and washed his face.

"Oh no, bleah! Aah!" he suddenly backed away with a start: not too far from him, there was a small dead fish floating in the water. As if this wasn't enough, a bird flew over him, and a drop fell in the lake.

_And I… I DRANK from… from this last night?!_

Gabriel was about to lose it. This Training, so far, was full of humiliating situations… everyone, everything just kept on making him a fool! Degrading him! First, he gets just a stupid crowbar, then nearly gets his eyes burned out, he begins to act like a psychopath, vomits, they try to drown him in a pool, he can't protect a friend who gets his throat slit a few metres away from him, spends half the night running away like a coward, drinks from a dirty puddle, two girls begin insulting him, he checks himself out in a pink heart-shaped pocket mirror, then tries to wash his face in the aforementioned dirty puddle…

His stomach couldn't bear it: he vomited in the lake, his nails digging into the muddy ground. He looked at his hands: dirty, scratched, with black framed nails…

_What became of me?!_

He vomited again, but this time on his hands and over his shirt.

_Who am I? Why, why?!_

He remembered the photograph of the school choir, where a very handsome, tall soloist with a shiny smile and wonderful wavy blonde hair stood in the middle, radiating happiness and confidence. As if he didn't even know who that was.

_Who's that soloist? Who am I? Gabriel… Gabriel… gone… forgotten…_

He didn't know any more if it was vomiting or crying that kept on choking him, he just moaned and whined, scratching the ground hopelessly.

"Gabe!" he heard a voice.

* * *

For a few seconds earlier, Rose decided it was time to grease her bruised breasts again.

"Okay, Mart, go and see him. I'll take care of myself. Calm down, I don't think any more he wants to hurt us."

Deep in her heart, Rose felt Gabriel had some effect on her as well.

* * *

"Gabe… oh!" Martha couldn't say a word.

_What? Did… did she see it all? And now she comes to insult and bully me?!_

That precise moment, Gabriel snapped. He grabbed the crowbard and jumped at Martha.

"Gabe…!" Martha dropped the harpoon, as Gabriel hit her temple.

"Here, take it!" the boy saw red "you did it on purpose, right? Should I wash in this?"

He pulled the bleeding, crying girl by the hair, then pushed her head under the water.

* * *

Rose heard a scream just as she finished treating her bruises, by then turned dark blue. She jumped up and ran in the direction.

* * *

Martha fought desperately, flinging her arms around and trying to kick, but got weaker and weaker, the water bubbling less and less. Gabriel knelt on her back, and kept her head under the water with both hands.

"Murderer!" thundered Rose's deep, strong voice.

Gabriel's eyes widened, and let go of Martha, who by then went limp and motionless.

_What am I doing?_

Rose didn't hesitate, but grabbed his waist and threw him away as a sack of flour; Martha was the more important. She pulled the girl out of the water, and hit her back. She choked up some water, and was nearly unconscious, but at least alive…

Gabriel tried to run, but it was too late. Rose left her gasping friend, and was suddenly behind his back.

In movies, they usually say something very impressive, but Rose didn't: he grasped Gabriel shoulder with one hand, and his head with the other. After an amazingly strong, fast pull, a disgusting _pop_ was heard.

"Mart! Just a moment!" Rose threw their three weapons in Martha's backpack, leaving the poker there, then picked up the wounded girl, holding her in her arms. The clinic was a danger zone, but maybe the shop… she quickly ran off.

Instead of the once-beautiful soloist, just a dirty, bloody body, dressed in tattered clothes remained on the lakeshore, his broken neck turning in an unnatural angle.

**Boy #4 Donaghy, Gabriel – eliminated**

**9 contestants remaining**


	25. Never give up

_/The worst is over now_

_And we can breathe again_

_I wanna hold you high, you steal my pain away_

_There's so much left to learn_

_And no one left to fight_

_I wanna hold you high and steal your pain_

_'Cause I'm broken_

_When I'm open_

_And I don't feel like I am strong enough_

_'Cause I'm broken_

_When I'm lonesome_

_And I don't feel right when you're gone away/_

_(Seether feat. Amy Lee: Broken)_

* * *

Nick left zone E5 heading south, shortly after 8 AM. He planned to reach the shop and get something to eat better than bread and water; he had already finished his own sandwiches, and had even wasted one on that fool of Mary… Oh well, the sword was worth the sacrifice anyway.

Suddenly he noticed something. There was someone lying on the ground, near a house. Nick rose the pistol slowly; the mysterious person didn't move or turn his way. Were they dead? Unconscious? Or merely asleep? As the sun was shining right upon them, Nick couldn't see even if it was a boy or a girl. He decided not to run any risk, and shot three bullets into the body. It jerked a little each time.

_Well, if they weren't dead before, now they surely are._

He walked up to it slowly, looking around carefully, hoping nobody would see him. The body was lying on its back, the face turning away from him. Seeing the thick black curls and the golden cross slipped on the side, Nick realized it could only be Madeleine Beaumont (Girl #2). Part of her blue shirt seemed torn and somewhat burned in an odd way; something wasn't right. Nick knelt down, grasped her hair and pulled it to turn the face towards him.

"OW!" he stared at a shard of glass cutting into his hand (when George broke the bottle, several of them fell into Maddie's hair), but, before he could curse about it, he saw the most horrible thing he could ever imagine.

"My… my God…! Maddie… M-Maddie…!" he backed away, then fell on his bottom.

He expected to see that stunningly beautiful, fresh face, with full lips, sapphire blue eyes and high forehead, so, Maddie, the most beautiful girl in class. Instead, the face he saw reminded him mostly of zombies from horror movies: empty, dark eye sockets, tissue burnt down to the bone, clenched teeth in a lipless mouth, blood and dark brown flesh, seemingly rotting…

_Maddie! What, what happened to you?_

Nick had never seen anything this hideous, but, worse than that, knowing that not so long ago this abominable corpse used to be the legendary beauty, Maddie, completely felled him.

_Only a cold-blooded monster could have done this._

The fact that the night before he himself had beheaded one of his classmates in totally cold blood seemed irrelevant to him.

Nick looked around, and, to his surprise, noticed an axe lying in the grass, right beside the wall of the house. Was it Maddie's, or the murderer's? But why would the murderer leave such a good weapon here?

_Because they had something way better, obviously._

Nick pulled the shard out of his palm, thank goodness it wasn't a huge wound, and the bleeding was going to stop soon. He then picked the axe up.

_A pistol, a shotgun, maybe a machine gun…_

These were the weapons that could have been in the hands of whoever killed Maddie. In that case, Nick would be perfectly safe: he touched the bulletproof vest under his shirt, and smiled satisfied. He placed the sword in its scabbard, and hung it on his backpack. He then reloaded the pistol, and continued on his way to the shop with the axe in hand.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the shop, George was enjoying his meal: he had found some stale bread, biscuits, jam, cookies, chips, and even a can opener, so he could access all the canned vegetables and meat as well. He wiped his mouth after some sardines and peas, then tossed the plastic plate away, and bit into a slice of bread and jam.

"Whoa… maybe I ate too much…" he said after a while, once there were empty boxes, papers, cans and dirty plates lying all around him.

In the end he hid behind a counter (probably it was the butcher's place) in the back of the shop, and, still holding his MAC10, tried to take a short nap.

* * *

Lindsay woke up to Daniel touching her shoulder.

"Aaah!" she jolted "oh… it's you, Danny."

Somehow, it didn't calm her down at all.

"Linnie, you slept through the news again. It's 8 past. Let's go eat something."

"What the hell?" she looked at her friend busy with the pot "meatball soup for breakfast?"

"Linnie, we need something nutritious."

"Right… Danny! The list!"

"We were lucky" he said "the danger zones aren't near."

Lindsay smiled, but sighed when she noticed the two new circled names on the list: Eddie and Bel.

"It's ready" Daniel tasted the soup, then placed it on the table.

Lindsay knew Danny was good friends with Eddie. For both of them, the Training still seemed like a surreal nightmare. They just circle the names… then maybe their alarm clock will go off, and they will be back at school, seeing everyone again. Even though Daniel had already killed, he had shot a single arrow, and saw as it hit Benjamin's forehead. As he thought of it, it played in slow motion, as a misshapen sequence…

"What would I do without you?" smiled Lindsay, once done with the soup.

"Oh, Linnie, please…"

"I would have already died! You're my angel!"

Daniel blushed.

"I couldn't live without you!" Lindsay threw her arms around Daniel's neck; she was taller than him, but didn't mind. She loved him… but only as a brother, a best friend.

_Will this hold him back?_

_I can't hurt her. Oh, Linnie…_

Daniel caressed her hair. Love can fade away, but friendship lasts forever. At least theirs.

* * *

Meanwhile, about 650 metres south-east from there, two other students were struggling witht the surreal situation too.

"I can't see what's missing!" Willie hit the keyboard so hard that the whole piano shook dangerously.

"Willie!" Al was just trying to open a can of meat "shouldn't you eat instead? Maybe it will help…"

"Okay… fine."

"Al, I just don't understand!" said Willie, after they had finished their breakfast "I can't, I just can't compose! I'm stuck, I have no idea what to do!"

"Maybe…"

"I can't wait, Al! Do I have enough time left?"

Neither of them had yet seen the horrors of the Training. They weren't hurt, killed no one, had seen no deaths. They heard the names, knew most of their friends were gone, but it still seemed more like a bad dream.

"I don't know, Willie" Al looked in the distance from the window, dangling his feet "I still can't believe this…"

* * *

At half past eight Lily stepped out of the shade of the trees in zone B5, and headed southeast. Once in zone C6, she sat down beside the wall of a house, having no idea she was quite close to two classmates she loathed. Her dot wasn't visible on Lindsay's palmtop either. She was tired, her face hollow, several cuts on her body (mostly from Jacob's grenade), her hair messily falling on her back, her clothes ragged… she hardly resembled the pretty, popular girl of a day and a half before. She closed her eyes, and, due to the exhaustion, fell immediately asleep.

* * *

"Mart" Rose stopped, panting "can you still take it?"

Martha was still crying, tears kept on flowing from behind her cracked glasses.

"I… liked him too" Rose bit her lip as she hugged her best friend.

They had sat down barely a zone from the shop, as even she couldn't run for a long time with Martha in her arms.

Avoiding the school and the sports centre (Rose had seen three bodies near the DIY shop), they were probably in zone F9.

"Hold on, Mart!" Rose wiped the wound on her friend's temple "sorry, just for a couple of minutes… hopefully nobody will come by…"

"I don't need the shop, Rory…" whispered Martha "my pack… my backpack…"

"We have already used up the bandages."

"No, not that… at the clinic…"

"I can't believe this!" Rose laughed as she pulled a brand new first-aid kid from her friend's backpack.

Martha smiled weakly, wiping her tears.

Once she had cleaned the wound, Rose pulled out a cigarette and lit it, then blew out the smoke slowly and calmly. Martha stared at the ground, her eyes cried out.

"Come on, Mart!" Rose put an arm around her shoulders.

Suddenly, a very faint click or snap was heard from behind them.

Rose didn't have time to shout: she simply pulled Martha to the ground with her, barely a second before a shot was fired. She rolled over in a moment, and came face to face with the attacker: Nick grinned. The girl didn't stay wondering, just used her karate skills to kick the weapon off his hand, just as it went off a second time; it merely burned the shoulder of her T-shirt.

Martha got to her knees whimpering; Rose's cigarette was lying next to her. Her head hurt, she felt dizzy, but couldn't move as she watched the deathmatch between Nick and Rose, though a little blurry due to her cracked glasses.

Rose jumped to her feet, and grasped Nick's arm: a pair of poison green and another one of pale blue eyes stared into each other. The boy held the axe with both hands, while Rose tried to push him away. The two strongest students of class 10/C were facing each other here. They stayed like that for moments that seemed endless, only the power could be felt, as neither of them let the other one move an inch. Suddenly Rose, though risking her balance, kicked Nick between his legs. The boy fell over screaming from pain, pushing her down as well, the axe hitting the ground barely a few centimetres above the girl's head. However, Nick didn't let go of his weapon. Rose knew she had no chance to get back for the pickaxe or the harpoon: she had to hold on with her bare hands. For the few seconds while Nick lay in pain, she hit him, punched him and kicked him with all her strenght, scratched his arms and face, and in the end got out from under him. She quickly tried to snap his neck as she did with Gabriel, but Nick hit her chest with her elbow.

"Ow!" she fell backwards, her bruises aching, while Nick got on all fours.

The girl would not be deterred: she kicked him in the stomach, and tried to take the axe from him, but Nick held on determined to his only usable weapon; thanks to the hard, bulletproof vest the previous strikes didn't hurt him very much. By then they were both holding the axe's handle, Rose above Nick, but neither moved again. But soon Nick kicked Rose off him, who fell on her back. Then he struck down with the axe, and even though the girl managed to pull away from the fatal blow…

"AAAAAAAAAH!"

"Rory!"

Rose stared in horror at her stumpy left arm, blood gushing from her wrist. Her hand lay on the grass, in a red pool.

_This won't stop me!_

She didn't even fully understand what had happened to her. She jumped at Nick again, holding the axe with her remaining right hand, trying to kick the boy off his feet.

Nick wouldn't let go of the axe, but could hardly harm the girl with his clumsy left hand; Rose was attacking with all her might. But suddenly he slapped her right on her chest, on those painful bruises…

"Ow!" Rose brought her arms to her chest instinctively.

She looked up a moment later, but that split second was enough. Nick struck down with the axe…

A crack and a weird, bubbling noise was heard.

"Roryyy!" screamed Martha.

It was over. The great Rory stood erect for another two seconds, her eyes stuck up. Then, all of a sudden, blood sprayed violently from her forehead, neatly split in two, and she fell.

Martha whined, scratching the ground. It lasted less than forty seconds, even the cigarette was slightly smoldering…

Nick didn't even bother to remove the axe, as he pulled Martha to him by her hair.

"Dear little one!" he laughed as his hands roamed over her body, ripping her shirt and squeezing one of her breasts "aww, it's so bad your girlfriend couldn't protect you, isn't it?"

"Aaah!" Martha gathered all her strength one last time.

She picked up the cigarette, and, putting all her sorrow and anger into this move, pushed it into Nick's left eye.

"AAAAH!" Nick let her go, as he brought his hands to his face, sticky, bloody fluid flowing out of his left orbit.

He got himself together only about ten seconds later, but suddenly halted before he could jump at Martha.

"Don't move!" the girl screamed, pointing the harpoon right at his chest. She was going to take her vengeance and win…

But she was too weak, and had no chance against Jefferson High's basketball champion.

Nick simply grabbed the handle of the harpoon to pull Martha to him, then, holding her by the thick golden hair, picked up the pistol and shot her twice in the temple execution-style. Then she threw her over Rose's bloody body.

"Damned lesbians!" he spat, and, his hand on his eye, continued on his way to the shop, hoping the shots would not attract anyone, taking the girls' weapons and the backpack with him.

**Girl #8 German, Rose - eliminated**

**Girl #9 Miller, Martha - eliminated**

**7 contestants remaining**


	26. Showdown

_/Haunt me_

_If you want me_

_But I warn you_

_If you ever step to me_

_I sometimes wish that I could fly_

_Hold me tight in your arms tonight_

_Sick of living inside a lie_

_A lie!_

_I can't count the times I tried_

_Stand alone just to lift you high_

_You're my answer to the question why_

_Why?/_

_(Thousand Foot Krutch: Step to me)

* * *

_

George was awoken from his quiet, but light sleep by a faint creak. Like the door of the shop opening… he picked up the MAC10, and listened tensely. He couldn't see who it was from behind the butcher's counter, for the shelves were hiding them from his sight. His nerves were about to snap; he couldn't just stay there while the mysterious person, like, eats some stuff, then walks away quietly. In the end, he had a machine gun. A pistol. A knife. Pepper spray. Whoever it might be, George would be the one to survive!

Nick picked up a mirror from among the cosmetics, and put some plasters he found in Martha's backpack on the hideous, bleeding wound where his left eye used to be. _Damned lesbian whore!_ It still hurt, but not as horribly as before. He had just finished when he heard the noise of something falling from a shelf.

_How could I be such a fool? Of course I wasn't the only one coming here!_

He rose the pistol. He still had seven bullets loaded.

George heard motion from the cosmetics' shelf.

_Is it a girl?_

He pulled back, but moved too fast, and a packet of spices hit the floor.

_He must have spotted me!_

Nick knew it would be useless to ask who it was. He put down both the backpacks and slowly, very slowly moved towards the shelves.

George, not wasting any more time, simply jumped forward.

_Nick! He's my buddy!_

"Wait, Nick!" he rose a hand, and lowered the machine gun "it's just me!"

"Only one can remain" Nick replied coldly.

"But…" George stared at the plaster on the other boy's eye.

"Maybe… I can think again…"

_He has an amazing weapon… I am to win for sure, if I manage to get it…_

Nick focused on the MAC10.

George felt something wasn't right. He jumped to the side just in time to avoid the first two bullets.

_So you're playing!_

He leant out from behind the shelf and pulled the trigger. Nick dodged them, and hid from his sight.

_He's coming the other way!_

George almost immediately noticed Nick on the other end of the array of shelves. They began shooting simultaneously.

Nick felt some bullets hit his stomach, but his Kevlar worked perfectly. George didn't realize why seemingly all of his bullets missed; he slipped behind the next shelf.

Nick crept silently along the drink shelf, side by side with the butcher's counter. He had only one or two bullets left, and, if he walked back to the backpacks to reload, George could kill him. No matter the Kevlar, George had very powerful weapons, and seemed a truly dangerous opponent. He stopped and looked up at the shelf. He could shoot true it, but hitting George like that seemed out of the question, and he might also reveal his position. He had to think fast.

His eyes suddenly lit up. Yes, it must have been George to kill Maddie. He was the one he really had to fear, apparently the only obstacle on his road to victory.

_Okay, I might not get the MAC10… but I have killed Rory. I can do this._

He looked first at the shelf, then at his muscles.

George looked around nervously; Nick seemed strangely silent. No footsteps, no shots, no motion. What was going on? He was really scared by then.

Then something creaked. Is Nick walking around? No… he looked up at the shelf. Suddenly a can of meat fell off, then another one. It took George a few seconds to realize what was actually happening, but by then all sorts of goods were falling towards him, as the heavy, full shelf tilted heavily, ready to tumble down on him.

_My God!_

He managed to avoid it as he slipped over, falling on his side. Was it safe already?

_No! No! Impossible…!_

The first shelf tumbling set off a chain reaction, and George heard the sinister creak again, now from both sides. He had no time to get up and run, or crawl away…

_"Please, in case of danger, assume the following position…"_ George crouched down, as he knew what he had to do on airplanes, pulling his arms over his head, as the shelves crashed down on and round him, he felt things hitting and hurting his face, his hands…

Then… nothing.

Nick stood victoriously before the butcher's counter, watching the dust rise from the fallen shelves. He had done it, he had killed George. He didn't want to start looking for the machine gun, but who cares? He had eliminated his greatest opponent, he was sure going to be the winner. He exited the shop, and headed eastward.

* * *

Al watched apprehensively as Willie kept on pulling his hair.

"Do you want to go bald?"

The other boy stopped, and stared inconsolably at the piano's keyboard.

"Ah, forget it…" he stood up in the end "_William Wosley, the undiscovered talent left only an unfinished fragment before his early death…_ well, this is how my story's gonna end. And give me that."

Al handed over the rifle without saying a word.

"I can use this one better. Take this instead" Willie handed his friend the small Colt Python.

Al knew what Willie was talking about. That he had accompanied his father on a hunting trip once or twice, and even held a totally different rifle one time, successfully hitting an innocent tinder fungus, while the deer he intended to shoot ran away. But at least he already saw how a rifle should be used…

Willie propped the rifle against the piano, and sat back. He hit a couple of keys, then leant back sadly.

Al felt it better to leave him alone. With the revolver in his belt, he walked to the adjoining room, where the large, full-length windows and the single French door gave a beautiful view of the garden. Standing in the sunlight, he didn't look outside this time. He had seen it already thousands of times: arid ground, flowers on the verge of death, wrought iron fence.

* * *

Nick noticed faint music, which stopped a second later.

_What the hell?_

He looked at the luxurious villa, and noticed somebody moving behind the full-length windows. Though he couldn't see them well because of the reflections, Nick knew of only one still living classmate who had to raise his hand at eye-level if he wanted to reach a door handle. And the glass door had a handle as well…

_He didn't notice me yet._

Nick couldn't have climbed in, for the backpacks were pretty heavy, and his stomach and eye still hurt a little. Deciding to take the risk, he opened the gate, but luckily it made on sound. Apparently even Al didn't take notice of him.

_He must have been the one playing. What an idiot! But hm, he's quite a small target…_

_

* * *

_

Nick knew that even if he got noticed, none of his classmates would run for cover. He was a nice guy, after all. A great sportsman, and a cool person who had lots of friends, and apparently didn't hate anyone, as he even spoke to Lindsay a couple of times. But nobody seemed to observe that whenever he began to play any kind of sport, he never did it just for the fun of it or to keep himself in shape. He played to _win_. To be the best at anything he does, to let everyone know who he was. But on the outside, he was smiley and happy. Inside, competitive, cold, and calculating. Like with Mary. Not that she was ugly or stupid (he would have loved to get her laid, but not under such circumstances), but definitely not even worth considering, and bound to be eliminated anyway. And sure as hell she didn't deserve that sword.

* * *

Once in the garden, he placed the backpacks on the ground, and pulled out the harpoon and reloaded the pistol. Then he hung the sword on his side, along with the crowbar, just to be sure.

He crept near the windows along the wall, and took a peek inside. Al was standing in front of a bookshelf, with his back to him.

_Perfect._

He jumped to the windows and pulled the trigger to shoot several bullets in a row.

_What's that? Whoa, I got that book too!_

Al knelt down to take a better look at the volume titled _Lives of famous composers_, when suddenly he heard shots, glass breaking, and heavy dust fell on his head from books on the upper shelves, by then full of holes.

_What the…?_

His eyes widened, and he turned around not even standing up.

"Nick!" he screamed "Nick!"

_He must have confused me with someone!_

"Nick!" he said "it's just me and Willie! Nick, what happened to your eye? Come in, we can help you…"

_Willie? Big deal! That fool definitely isn't a threat…_

"Nick…?" Al just kept on staring at him.

"Is it Nick?" Willie showed up "Nick! Come in, don't shoot, it's just us! Calm down Al, he must have confused us with someone…"

_I have already thrown a javelin… and the window is already shattered…_

"Nick…? Nick…?" the two boys couldn't believe that this nice guy was playing.

"Down!" shouted Al and threw himself over Willie "aaah!"

"Al! AL!"

"Owww…" Nick had thrown the harpoon swiftly, and now its bloody ends were stuck in the bookshelf.

Al's left elbow was severely bleeding.

"He's playing! And he's a complete arsenal!" Willie pulled the Colt Python from Al's belt, and pulled the trigger.

_Click._

None of them had ever seen such a pistol, how should they have known it wasn't loaded?

Nick, having no bullets left, pulled out the sword.

_I'm invulnerable and invincible!_

Willie ran off, but Al seemed frozen in place. His sky-blue eyes stared wide at Nick, as he moved closer, as in slow motion.

_But… he's our friend…_

Willie picked up the rifle.

_Where's Al?_

He heard a crash and a scream.

_No!_

Al screamed, realizing just now he was about to die. Nick kicked off what remained of the full-length window, and stepped inside.

_BANG!_

Al felt as if he was going deaf, the loud shot being fired only centimetres from his ear. He looked dumbfounded in front of himself. As if the scar around the plasters on Nick's left eye had widened… Blood vapour rose, and Nick, who had only half of his head left, fell backwards as a puppet with its strings cut. He fell in the garden, his feet still inside.

Al looked to his right only a few seconds later, and the sight shocked him. It wasn't Willie's hands grasping the still smoking Silver Pigeon, nor the fact that his friend stood firm as a statue. It was his face. Al and Willie had been friends for several years, and he had already seen him happy, sad, serious, anything. But, in whatever mood he was in, there was still something grotesque in the class clown's expressions. But now… nothing. The face was serious, and somewhat bitter… it didn't seem Willie at all, more like a person he didn't know…

Willie's fingers slowly let got, and the rifle slipped out of his hands, until it clattered on the floor.

Al blinked and awoke from his daze. The frozen, silent moment was over. Willie ran off, and a few seconds later music was heard. From the door, he could see Willie wildly hitting the keys in helpless anger, his hair falling in his face, and at places picking up the pen and scribbling something in the music sheet. Al remembered what he once heard from the music teachers.

_Wosley, right? Well… a quite unusual perosn, that's for sure. Crazy and a bit off in his own world… but undoubtedly a genius._

He could see this genius at work now. No, Willie didn't go mad, he just had to write his feelings out in music. This was the high point of the Training for him.

Al turned to Nick's corpse, and walked up to it feeling a little dizzy. Something weird could be seen from under the boy's shirt, slipped up. He remembered seeing something like that in crime series. But who would start stripping a corpse?

_Nick…_

His elbow hurt, but, gritting his teeth, he did it. Who could know how many others were out there with guns! But the two of them needed to survive… it took quite some time, as the shortest boy in class had even to turn the tallest and heaviest one.

The piano kept on playing the whole time, the single notes interweaving into one, monumental masterpiece.

It suddenly went silent, just the moment Al lifted the bulletproof vest.

"Willie…?" he looked inside shyly.

Tears were flowing from Willie's eyes, his face reflected horrible sorrow.

But his mouth showed an almost maniacal smile.

"I'm done."

**Boy #14 Wallace, Nicholas – eliminated **

**6 contestants remaining**


	27. Shattered dreams

_/And my destination_

_Makes it worth the while_

_Pushing through the darkness_

_Still another mile_

_I believe in angels_

_Something good in everything I see_

_I believe in angels_

_When I know the time is right for me_

_I cross the street_

_- I have a dream.../_

_(Westlife - original song by ABBA - I have a dream)

* * *

_

"Oh, Lilyyy…!" George pushed harder.

"Aaah, Giorgiooo!" Lily screamed as some porn actress, her manicured nails digging into his skin.

Nothing like a night with Lily. George felt the ecstasy, the total fulfillment as he grasped her breasts and squeezed them…

White light blinded his vision…

"…what happened?"

Lily was nowhere to be seen, the comfortable bed was gone, just as the white light. Nothing but deep darkness.

George had no idea, but he actually owed his life to a large cookbook, which got stuck between some cans of food just above his head, thus preventing him from getting hit more. Well, his crouching down helped too, just as the fact that he ended up exactly between two levels of the tall, heavy shelf.

When he came around, he felt dizzy, sore, and was surrounded by complete darkness. His hand still held the MAC10, but he was unable to pull it out, as it seemed stuck. Without letting go, he tried to make room for himself and began kicking, then, using his free left hand, attempted to open a way out. Being ambidextrous, this was far easier for him than it would have been for anyone else. Some pre-cooked dish must have fallen out, judging by the smell of barbecued meat, and most of the bags of spices had probably ripped too, as he noticed other fragrances too. Finally, he managed to push away two bottles of coke – which miraculously stayed intact – and looked out from the hole.

The shop had turned into a stack of ruins. He pushed away a few cans and a bag of dog food, and finally crawled out. Ignoring the pain in his limbs, he grabbed the MAC10 with both his hands, and pulled it adding his own weight too. He fell back as he freed the gun, and he instantly heard a crash as the bottles between which it was stuck broke on the ground. Who cares, he had his most powerful weapon, but was it still working? He had seen a few crime stories in which the seemingly intact machine gun exploded or such, but he had to try it. All or nothing… he pulled the trigger, and a series of bullets hit the butcher's shelf.

_Perfect_. He reloaded the gun, and tried to stand up. Horrible pain hit his left ankle, but, gritting his teeth, he managed to get to his feet nonetheless. Blood dripped down his face from a cut, and there were several scratches on his arms, but he could hold his weapons fairly securely. He staggered to the only intact shelf, which held cosmetics and first aid, right next to the cashier's. Using a mirror – most likely the same Nick used to check his eye a while before – he cleaned and put some plasters on the largest cuts on his face and arms; luckily, there were only three that really hurt and were still bleeding, most likely caused by falling cans. He had no idea what to do with a sprained ankle, though. In the end he bandaged his left ankle tight, and finally managed to stand up steadily. Satisfied to discover it didn't hurt that much, he could walk at a fairly constant pace, and, gathering all his strength, even run short distances. He just hoped he would not have to climb stairs in the next few hours. At around 10 AM George Adams walked out of the shop.

_I survived. And if I survived this, I can survive anything. George Adams, the winner of the Training… my weapons are invincible, and Nick may have been lucky this time, but he wouldn't a second time!

* * *

_

At a quarter past eleven, Willie and Al (his wound already bandaged, thanks to his best friend) had already played the piece titled _The Training_ a couple of times, and both agreed it turned out very well. Willie seemed to have calmed down, though he avoided the room with the French windows and would not say a word about Nick or the shotgun. Al brough his weapon back to him, but, seeing his face, he found it better to just lean it against the piano other end, so at least Willie wouldn't see it all the time, as a reminder of him having killed. Killed a guy he usually liked… The taser lay beside the now full music sheet.

As Willie, looking pensively, added a few corrections to his masterpiece, and told Al the two of them would be soon touring the world with their music, the short boy just shook his head smiling.

"I'm no musician, Willie. And… should I give you this?" he held up the bulletproof vest.

"Ah, no, just keep it, whatever…"

"Um, thanks" Al went to the adjoining room to put it on.

* * *

All three Vine brothers – Alistair, Zachary and Christopher – played the piano since they were young, but for sixteen-year-old Al and nine-year-old Chris it was just a hobby. Fifteen-year-old Zach, now, he was another subject. Not a composing genius as Willie, but he undoubtedly had far more talent than his two brothers. Al, whose actual dream was to study architecture, was honestly happy that his brother seemed to have found his way as well. As Zach's long fingers gracefully slid on the keys, he seemed to lose himself in the music…

* * *

Frankly, that moment Zach came to Al's mind only because he was already way taller than him. Even Chris was about to leave his older brother behind, and not that it bothered him (they were his brother after all), being only 138 centimetres in height and weighing a mere 39 kilos (he tried to put on some more, but with little success) this time literally put his life in danger.

* * *

"How tall are you, and how much do you weigh?" asked the nurse at the medical examination.

"One hundred and forty-four centimetres, forty-five kilos!" he said proudly.

Too bad they actually measured him after, shattering his hopes of having grown as much as an inch.

Nick snickered at him, as Wallace came after Vine, and had just been congratulated for his 187 centimetres.

* * *

_Damn, nobody thinks a bulletproof vest should be made to fit a dwarf or a grade schooler! Of course it's made in a standard size…_

The thick, hard fabric dangled down to his thighs, impeding him in walking properly, let alone run. His long shirt covered it somewhat, so it was not visible, but still…

_Why am I such a dwarf?_

He sighed. No chances with the girls, either, nobody would think about dating a little kid. He didn't know Lindsay would pretty much die to see him smile, but the class outcast semmed irrelevant to anyone.

_Willie could make better use of this._

Al was was just about to unbutton his shirt and take the bulletproof vest off, when he heard loud banging noises and glass shattering from the piano room.

_Willie…? What…? No, no, not that… NO!

* * *

_

George had reached the house only a few minutes before, and immediately noticed Nick's corpse.

_Must have been shot from inside there. The one who killed him… now, that one is playing for sure! I have to get rid of them fast.

* * *

_

Willie played a few notes, getting inspiration for a new composition, when the window crashed behind him. He felt the stinging pain only a second later, as if several hot pokers has pierced his body. He coughed, red dots appeared on the pure white piano keys, he tasted blood… he turned around on the chair, and stared right into the eyes of George, standing outside the window.

_Willie… ha! Who would've thought he'd play eagerly? Oh well, it's over now!_

George tried to climb in, but, as he stepped on the window-sill, pain stabbed his ankle.

_Fuck it!_

He fell on his back in the grass, but tried to stand back again almost immediately.

Willie needed no more either. He knew his wounds were serious, he knew it was his own blood he was tasting, but he hardly understood he was unlikely to survive this. For a sixteen-year-old unfolding genius, who had his greatest dream at an arm's reach, dying was out of the question… he saw George already got to his feet; gathering all his strength, though a musician would never do such a thing, he stepped on the piano's keyboard and jumped, hoping to reach the Silver Pigeon. But he didn't take his injuries into account; normally, with a quick slide, he would have already been on the other side, shotgun in hand, but now, as he got up, horrible pain hit his back, and he had to steady himself. Standing on all fours on top of the piano, he couldn't hold back the coughs, and blood spatter from his own mouth appeared in front of him in large stains, not only dots.

_No! I have to hold on!_

He threw away his glasses (they weren't prescription lenses anyway), and managed to rise, when the fast shots were heard once again.

_Al!_

His best friend's smile, the both of them playing, their dreams… _William Wosley, the young musician…_ him playing before a cheering crowd…

His dream was his last clear thought, he fell forward as it broke into pieces, blood already flowing from his back, chest and mouth.

As George, gritting his teeth, finally managed to get inside, everything slowly faded for him. The last sound Willie heard was a crack, as the boy who took his life and shattered his dream stepped on his thick-framed glasses.

_Shit!_

Though it angered him, George didn't bother to pick the glass shards from the soles of his trendy sneakers. He camly walked around the piano and examined the shotgun: he was pretty sure it wasn't Nick's. The sporty boy's body lay outside of the adjoining room; were his weapons still on him? He couldn't have been dead for very long… he put the taser in his belt and walked to him.  
Though his ankle still hurt from the climbing, he managed to kneel down to take a better look at Nick, when he thought he heard something from near the piano. But Willie was dead for sure…

He rose the Ingram and staggered back. Willie lay motionless on top of the piano as before, the chair was still there, the broken glasses too… still, something was not right. Something had changed. George blinked a couple of times, wondering. Then he suddenly realized: the music sheet was gone! It disappeared! Was there anybody else around? But he could have escaped only from the window or the father away door, otherwise George would have seen them. He leant on the window-sill, looking out, but saw no one. It was barely half a minute, they couldn't have gotten very far…

_The other room, then._

To his surprise, it was empty as well. Was he dreaming?

But then again, why didn't the other person take the Silver Pigeon?

_This way nobody would use it!_

He picked the shotgun up and hit the ground with it, damaging its barrel.

_Good._

_Whatever, they might wait for me to sit down and rest… I can't stay here._ He walked back to Nick's corpse, and exchanged their backpacks, keeping his ammunition, of course. He hung the sword on the backpack, put away the crowbar, placed his new pistol on his belt next to the taser, and went on his way north, to find a safe place where he could organise his weapons. They were undoubtedly very heavy, and his injured ankle didn't help. But he needed to get far, and so he did; in fact, it wasn't yet 11 AM when he reached the border between zone E9 and D9.

**Boy #15 Wosley, William - eliminated**

**5 contestants remaining

* * *

**

Al, his tiny body crouching under the window-sill, was shaking like a leaf as he sensed George leaning out only a few centimetres above him. Steps… he was getting away… _Willie…_

Tears ran down his cheeks as he held to his chest the most important thing: Willie's composition. All that was left to him of his best friend.


	28. Forever

**Review, please! Hope you like it!**

* * *

_/Why can't we make this darkness feel like home?_

_Running through the monsoon_

_Beyond the world_

_Till the end of time_

_Where the rain won't hurt_

_Fighting the storm_

_Into the blue_

_And when I lose myself I think of you_

_Together we'll be running somewhere new_

_And nothing can hold me back from you/_

_(Tokio Hotel: Monsoon)_

* * *

Al ran fast. After he heard George's steps dying away, he knew he didn't have much time left to escape him. What if he, say, decides to walk around the house? _Bang_, and that will be the end for Alistair Vine. But he wouldn't let that happen.

He didn't even wonder about him having no weapons, apart from the – for him – useless bulletproof vest, currently tucked under his arm, as it, had he put it on, would significantly hinder him in running. Also, the fact that having no map would put him in danger didn't even occur to him… for the moment.

Why, oh why did he have to pass the DIY shop? If only he could forget the hedge trimmer protruding from Belinda's eyes, the small black corpse, burned beyond recognition, or Eddie, with his head lying a couple of metres from his body… the destruction…

Gasping, he stumbled into the small library in zone C9 (not signed on the map, like the sports centre: both were erroneously marked as houses, maybe to make the game more "interesting"?), and fell on the couch exhausted. His sweat mixed with his last tears.

_Oh, Willie…_

He still had his composition, though. Just, for the moment, he had no idea what to do with it.

* * *

George sat down in the grass, panting. Those weapons were great, but he had too many of them. He looked around furtively, hoping that Willie's mysterious companion wasn't around, or, if he was, that he would be able to elminate him with a quick spray of bullets. But there was no one in sight, so he took down his backpack, and began to search through the equipment.

Knife, sword, pepper spray, stun baton, crowbar, pickaxe, poker, two pistols… wait a minute!

_Crowbar?_

George grinned evilly. So Mr. Prince Charming Gabriel was dead. Somehow he felt extremely satisfied about it.

After some pondering, he decided to leave the poker, the pickaxe and the crowbar, but what if somebody finds them and uses them against _him_? He couldn't get to the sea or the lake to dump them, his ankle and the horrible weight were just too much. Then he had an idea: looking around, he noticed a tree with a large root sticking out of the ground. Using the pickaxe, he dug a small hole under it, dumped the weapons in, and concealed them with leaves and dirt. It took less than ten minutes. What about the sword? Somehow, he didn't want to leave it.

Then he took the bandage off his ankle and picked some from the first aid kit in Nick's backpack to replace it. When he stood up in the end, it didn't hurt that much. Knife, two pistols, pepper spray and stun baton in his belt, sword on his backpack, MAC10 in hand: George, the killing machine, went on his way again, heading westwards.

It was about half past twelve when he passed by the lake. He took delight in seeing Gabriel's corpse.

* * *

Meanwhile, Lily awoke from a short, distrubed sleep by the sunrays painfully hitting her eyes. She immediately reached for the Kalashnikov.

_I don't want to die! I… I… I must protect myself! Oh, Giorgio, where are you, my dear?_

She grasped the gun tighter when horrible memories of her previous nightmare flashed in her mind. Kristen, Peter and Susan tried to reach her with their thin, cold fingers… their empty eyes were staring at her, as they kept on moaning: _murderer… you killed us… Lily… Lily… Lily…_

Her world was already in pieces. She wouldn't let Giorgio slip away from her… he loved her, she felt sure…

Lily Charlotte Bell, the most popular girl in class, the sexy, pretty one, clutched her gun whining softly. She didn't want to die… she needed something to live for… Giorgio and their love… The two of them snogging in the corridor, breaking up barely minutes later and having some nice makeup sex the very same night (which she made sure leaked out somehow) always provided Josephine and by her, whole Jefferson High with juicy gossip, so that everyone talked about her and wanted to see her… she needed it. She didn't even know if they were together at the moment.

She stood up and headed eastward.

* * *

Lindsay tossed and turned in bed, not that she managed to sleep too much that night, or take a nap that morning. Fully clothed, she stared at the white wall. She couldn't forget how Danny had pointed the crossbow at her. The worst was, however, knowing that she was trapped with him; had she run out, she was pretty sure she would die in a matter of minutes, if anyone was nearby. Everyone hated her, though she never actually realized why. She wasn't evil or too different from anyone else; she liked fine clothes, makeup, movies and handsome boys just like Lily and her gang, or Maddie's group, for that matter. Yet she never belonged anywhere. Though she had never been enemies with Benjamin, they barely lived happily beside each other in the class, the boy managed to humiliate her in front of whole 10th C a year before.

She just sat beside Dora, reading her Geography book, when he walked by and gave the other girl a card, inviting her to his birthday party.

"Thanks!" she smiled and looked at the date "I think I'm free…"

"Hey Ben!" shouted Jonathan "did you invite Maddie too?"

"Of course!" laughed Benjamin and licked his lips.

"Like I would go to yourh stupid parhty!" Maddie ripped the card and threw it in the trash bin.

"Did you invite me too?" Lindsay smiled brightly and held up her hand.

"No" said Benjamin coolly.

"What? Why?" her eyes widened.

"Because no losers are allowed!" he shouted, making sure the whole corridor heard him.

Her fingers whitened as she held the book tighter, with the laughter roaring in her ears. It was times like these that she really wished she could be like Carrie White from Stephen King's _Carrie._ Telekinesis…

_Flex._

Benjamin burst into flames.

_Flex._

Lily fell over and broke her nose.

_Flex…_

"Leave her alone!" Daniel threw Benjamin's card away and ran to her, embracing her "Linnie, calm down…"

"Oh, look at the crybaby!" laughed Lily, then gave Benjamin a pat on the shoulder "well done! No wonder no real boy would ever want her… oh, hey, Danny, did you already fuck her?"

Worst of all, Dora, whom she considered a friend, merrily went to Benjamin's party and told her how awesome it was a week later.

So she was sure she was an easy prey outside for anyone.

Not that she was any safer inside, for that matter. Nevertheless, she forced herself to act calm as she walked down the stairs to see Danny.

She found him standing at the counter, chopping up a piece of bread.

"Danny!"

He turned around, sharp knife in hand, pointing right at her, and made a step forward.

"No…!"

"Linnie, sit down and choose from the soups I put on the table! I think some sliced bread would be nice" he smiled.

Lindsay sat down, breathing hard. How could she have thought Danny, the dear Danny would have hurt her?

But she was still afraid. Another memory flashed in her mind.

Al and Dora had both declined the invitation to her birthday party, and Lindsay liked thinking that they did so due to previous engagements. Strangely enough, Willie showed up and made sure everyone laughed at him. He was a boy without too many prejudices… or maybe he was sure everyone would blame his presumed insanity for accepting her invitation.

Kelly and Daniel helped her organize everything. It was a quiet, but nice party, she received wonderful gifts; she was happy this way.

But then the worst happened. Danny stayed last, helping her clean up the mess, as her parents were away. Then, as she accompanied him outside, he suddenly stood in front of her and gently pushed her against the wall. It was funny how it became evident that he was shorter than her, but she didn't find anything to laugh about.

"Linnie."

"Danny?"

"Do you think we could be…"

"NO!" she cried, and pushed him away.

He almost fell over; he clearly wasn't expecting this reaction.

"You are my _friend_, Danny. My _best friend_… how _could_ you?"

She ran back and slammed the door. No matter how much Daniel banged on it minutes later, begging to be forgiven, she wouldn't open it as tears ran down her cheeks.

She often wished a boy would confess his love to her. But she never wanted that person to be Danny.

And even though they formally became _friends_ again, she was still a little scared of him.

In the end, he could just _have_ her any moment now… and worst of all, she couldn't sleep. Lack of sleep was a bigger problem for her than for anyone else. She knew her anemia would catch up with her. If she didn't get enough sleep, she would often go dizzy, unable even to stand up or think coherently, until simply dozing off in the middle of the day. Teachers went easy on her; it was a medical condition, after all, but her classmates laughed at her, thinking her a lazy sleepyhead.

"Thank you, Danny, I think I'd go for the vegetable soup" she smiled at him.

_I must stay awake…_

"Oops…" he said suddenly "I think we don't have enough water."

"Then I'll go and… whoa! Danny!"

Daniel grabbed her hand and pulled her back.

"No, Linnie, _I_'ll go. You can't put yourself in danger."

"What about _you_ then, Danny?"

"Linnie…" he raised a hand to caress her cheek, but she pulled back.

"Danny, no…"

"I'm sorry…" he threw a quick glance at her small palmtop; no one else in sight.

He took two bottles, closed the door and walked to the well.

Lindsay shook in fear.

_What will he do to me when he comes back?_

She stared blankly at the wall, then the clock (it was less than a quarter to twelve) then the counter with the slices of bread – perfectly even, as Danny's precise personality required – then the palmtop.

And she jumped up and fear. But no, no, she couldn't cry out for Danny, she would die!

_Oh, please, Danny, Danny…_

She couldn't move as she saw the other two dots, approaching from opposite directions, forming an almost perfect straight line with Danny's in the middle.

It was then that she heard the gunshots.

* * *

Daniel lifted the full bucket.

_Very well then, Linnie._

He picked up the first empty bottle, when he suddenly heard a weird, popping sound from his left. Immediately a different, louder crackling sound came from his right.

He had no time to think, to wonder where to turn, as bullets hit him from both sides, blood sprayed around, his light blue shirt turned dark purple. Nothing came to his mind. Not even Lindsay, not the fact that he was dead: he had no time.

As he fell, his glasses broken, his blue eyes open and glassy, blood flowing from his mouth, everything went silent.

Their smoking guns still rasied, George Adams and Lily Bell stared astonished at each other.

**Boy #10 Scovell, Daniel - eliminated**

**4 contestants remaining**


	29. Shock

**Please read and review ;)**

* * *

_/I can stop the pain_

_If I will it all away_

_If I will it all away..._

_Don't turn away_

_Don't give in to the pain_

_Don't try to hide_

_Though they're screaming your name_

_Don't close your eyes_

_God knows what lies behind them_

_Don't turn out the light_

_Never sleep never die.../_

_(Evanescence: Whisper)_

* * *

Al rose his head at the gunshots.

_Why?_

He could still see Willie dying, falling over the piano, his blood drops staining the music sheets.

_The music. Willie's masterpiece._

Al sat up and picked up the music sheet from the floor, where it had fallen, along with the bulletproof vest.

"What should I do with you…?" he asked softly, as if expecting an answer from the ink notes.

_Willie will never play his mighty compositions in front of thousands of people in the world's greatest music halls. His name will never be shining in neon letters…_

But Al felt himself too weak to do anything… then again, how many of them were still alive? Who could he trust? Too bad he had no map or class roster any more, as he couldn't pick them up in the mere seconds of his frantic escape from George and his cursed machine gun… the sound of which he was sure he heard a few minutes before, which surely meant someone had died…

_Who are the people I could trust and I should look for?_

_Nick is dead, and out of the question. Gabriel… yes! I hope he's still out there. Then Danny is a nice guy too. I'm not sure about the girls… Maddie is a cool one, I think she'll understand. Uhm… Rory and Martha… no, they're too off, only by themselves…_

Thinking in the order the names came alphabetically, he didn't even notice he completely skipped letter C. Carter? Who's that? The class outcast didn't seem to matter, virtually non-existant as she was to everyone.

In the end, Al decided he'll first need a weapon better than the paper-cutting knife he found on one of the desks in the library, and that he should try and find Gabriel, Danny or maybe Maddie, given that they were still alive, of course.

_Only one can remain._

Al didn't wonder about this – he needed a friend, and also needed to protect himself. Then again, since he couldn't wear the bulletproof vest properly, the "friend", whoever that might be, surely could. No way he would let George win this thing.

A bare minute before noon, he found his way to the library's small kitchen, and pulled out the drawer to find a few knives and a honing steel.

_Still better than nothing._

Thus, he began to sharpen a medium-length knife he could handle fairly well.

* * *

_Lil__y...?_

George tilted his head questioningly, as if he didn't fully understand who he was looking at. True, instead of the sexy, confident Lily Bell, with her hair carefully tied up and her make-up always flawless, there stood a scratched, in spots bloodied person, her disentangled hair sticky and messy.

Lily just stared, then her face lit up. A deranged smile played on her lips as she now knew she had found who she had been dreaming of all along, oh, her beloved, the one who would take her to safety in no time.

"Giorgio!" she slammed the Kalashnikov to the ground, threw down her backpack, and ran to her beloved, her only one with open arms.

"Oh, Giorgio, Giorgio!" she cried happily, tears of joy running down her cheeks, her arms hugging her boyfriend tightly.

Lily didn't even notice George wasn't returning her embrace – he just stood there, cold and firm as a statue.

* * *

Lindsay tasted blood; her own blood. Her tears were pouring down her face, but she couldn't sob loudly, couldn't scream… her survival instincts kicked in when she wanted to cry _Danny_ at the top of her lungs. All of a sudden, hardly knowing what she was doing, she bit down hard on her own left forearm, gnawing at her own flesh with each sob fighting its way up her throat.

* * *

"Lily…" whispered George.

"Giorgio!" Lily gently cupped the boy's face in her hands, and kissed him passionately "Giorgio!"

She couldn't do anything else, just repeating her beloved's name crying hot tears of joy. She had no energy left any more, but she knew the dear, dear Giorgio would understand her, for he loves her, oh, thank God for them finally meeting up! Nothing, no one, no greater force would ever tear them apart, never ever again…

Burying her face in the boy's chest, memories of their romance flooded her brain, and it all seemed so lovely, floating in a wonderful pink cloud. The day when the popular girl and the trendy boy accidentally ran into each other after school, and ten minutes later were already snogging in a forgotten doorway. Or the following week, when George spent the night at Lily's, once home from a wild party at the disco. What a great first sex together it was! Not the first for neither of them, of course, but who cared? Lily's parents nodded smiling, telling her how nice her latest boyfriend was.

"Oh, Giorgio…" Lily still couldn't stop crying.

She was far too happy, her heart soaring. She couldn't care less about that stupid Daniel's body lying a few feet from them: he was a fool anyway, how _dare_ he have better grades than her, the great Lily Bell? And, of course he was always ready to intercede on that retard Lindsay's behalf – silly loser!

"Uhm, Lily…" George didn't really know what to do with the situation.

It didn't even occur to him that Lily could be sincere for once.

_What is she trying to do, sob for a while, then stab me in the back?_

"Lily!" in the end he pushed her off him, and shook her a little.

"What's wrong, Giorgio?" the girl's grey eyes stuck up as she showed a dazed smile "I'm here with you, embrace me…"

She didn't fell George pulling Peter's Beretta off her belt and throwing it away.

"Come, my darling!" George took her up in his arms, grinning, and brought her away from the corpse.

"Giorgio…" Lily thought this was the happiest moment of her entire life, and she had never ever felt this safe, as she held on to George's chest.

* * *

Blood dripping down her chin, Lindsay stared out of the window, her tears drying off. She only saw George and Lily disappear behind some bushes, but their dots still stayed on her palmtop – as well as Daniel's.

"Danny!" she gasped, but suddenly stopped, staring at the bleeding bite marks on her arm.

_What…?_

She sank on the bed and bit the pillow, bloodstaining the white fabric.

It was barely two minutes to noon when she rose her head, gathering her thoughts.

_Danny… Lily… George… DANNY…_

Then she heard the heart breaking screams.

* * *

George licked his lips as Lily's torn top slid down her shoulder, almost exposing one of her breasts. It's been more than five hours he got aroused when jumping on top of Maddie, but Lily seemed more than willing to give him what he wanted, holding on to him like a life line.

To tell the truth, George really didn't think about Lily while in the _Training_. Sure, he knew from the news she was alive somewhere, but had other things in mind than go and search for her. He, George Adams, the pride of the nation, was going to survive. But first, some fun with Lily would be very nice…

He let her down and grabbed one of her breasts without hesitation.

"Not now, Giorgio!" she gently pushed his hand away "but once we escape, I promise you we'll…"

"But only one can remain" George interrupted her.

"Oh, come on, Giorgio" the girl's eyes stuck up again for a split second "the two of us… we're together… it's fine this way…"

George, tired of listening to her foolish rants, grabbed her breast again, harder this time.

"Giorgio, no!" Lily's expression became more serious "not now!"

"But I want it – and _now_!"

"But I said I don't!" Lily made a few steps backwards, slightly scared.

George threw his backpack off.

"Giorgio…?"

The boy pulled out the stun baton with one swift movement, and activated it.

Lily fell on her back, almost senseless.

"You're _mine_!" she heard George's voice.

She couldn't move or sense, she just dimly noticed her miniskirt being pulled down aggressively, and also heard the fabric ripping.

"No…" her lips formed the word soundlessly.

She saw and heard what was happening, but failed to understand, to feel its weight, to comprehend this betrayal.

_Giorgio…_

Very, very slowly, her senses began to return – and she immediately felt the horrible pain.

"Nooo! Giorgio! Nooo!" she could cry out again.

George slapped her.

Lily couldn't look at him any more, she just stared off to the side emptily. A minute before she felt as if she was the happiest person on Earth, but by then she had turned into an empty, torn, broken and feelingless rag doll. Her world crumbled around her.

_MUrderer! _in the midst of that chaos, Kristen's, Peter's and Susan's faces appeared in front of her, shouting at her, accusing her...

As for Lily Bell, the strong, determined, popular girl: she was nowhere to be seen. George kept on thrusting into her, killing her soul with each movement. By the time he let out a victorious roar, and knelt up to pull back his jeans, the Lily Bell everyone knew was already dead.

"Thanks, this was fun!" George snickered, though a little worn out.

Lily didn't move, even though she could have already. Her limbs spread out, her head turned to the side. Sometimes her body shook a little, George thought it was still due to the stun gun; in reality, they were sobs.

"Huh?" George looked at her questioningly for a second.

True, what the heck did he ever see in this broken mess of a person? She even looked ugly. And whiny. And useless – unworthy to keep alive.

"Bye then, Lily – thanks for this great fun!"

George pulled out the knife still stained with Michael's blood, and stabbed Lily in her broken heart with one powerful motion.

As Queen Lily let out her last breath, the midday news broke the silence.

**Girl #3 Bell, Lily - Eliminated**

**3 contestants remaining**

* * *

**Down to the final three**

**Boy #1 Adams, George**

**Boy #13 Vine, Alistair**

**Girl #5 Carter, Lindsay**


	30. Chances

**Didn't want to squish this one into the next chapter. More like an interlude. Hope you like it!**

* * *

"Whoa, now, I like this! It's midday, darlings, and here go the dead – there's quite a lot, so pay attention! Boys: number four, Gabriel Donaghy; number ten, Daniel Scovell; number fourteen, Nicholas Wallace; number fifteen, William Wosley. Girls: number two, Madeleine Beaumont; number three, Lily Bell; number eight, Rose German; number nine, Martha Miller.

Lindsay knelt up, still holding the sheets tight, tears soaking her face. As if witnessing helplessly Danny's death wasn't enough, Lily's horrible screams were almost worse… as much as she hated that bitch, she couldn't even imagine what was happening to her. Come to think of it, she actually _could_, but preferred to chase the thought from her mind. God… what now? Who was left, was there anyone she could trust? Then again, was Danny ever somebody she could trust? Oh… who was alive, who?

"Yes, yes, my dears, there's only three of you left" continued Miss Durham.

George grinned, Lindsay felt her blood freeze.

"Adams. Vine. Carter. Fight with all your might now! Oh, and the danger zones: from 1 PM, F5; from 3 PM, C9; from 5 PM, G8. I hope I will call the winner soon!"

George nonchalantly crossed the zones and names out, then walked off. If he had thought a little about it, maybe he could figure out what Danny was actually doing there, and that maybe it would be worthwhile to check the house nearby. But it didn't even cross his mind: he merely saw the boy near the well, and emptied a pack of bullets into him, end of story.

By then, he knew who Willie's mysterious companion was, and was also sure he didn't follow him. However, seeing the third name he chuckled. How ironic! The class' stupid little loser was still alive… would you believe it?

* * *

Lindsay quickly ran downstairs to cross out the danger zones.

"Oh, Danny…" she buried her face in her hands.

The one who was always by her side, the one whom she played with as a child, climbed her first tree with him at the age of five, who was the first guest at all her birthday parties… those blue eyes, just one look into them to forget her worries… ah, forget the crossbow aimed at her! Danny used to be a certain point of her life, a solid pillar, and was now gone.

She turned her head to look at the crossbow and the arrows in the corner. Was it really all that was left to her? George, that horrible, hated, evil guy, who started an entire campaign of bullying against her and called her a weak alien or a mentally retarded idiot, was alive. And, as far as she could see, had really good weapons too. And who else? The third living one… it was…

…_Al_.

Lindsay clasped her hands, her fingers whitened. Crossbow. Training. George. Al. Danny.

She drank all the water left in the bottle with one sip, and stood up.

_Hold on, Linnie!_

"I'm coming!" she picked up one of the backpacks, hung the quiver on her shoulder, held the crossbow in one hand and the palmtop in the other. Only her dot was visible in the middle, with the motionless ones of Danny and Lily closeby. George left westwards…

Lindsay stepped out of the door, and at the well knelt down beside Danny and closed his eyes. Hesitating a while, she sighed, and went to look for Lily. Swallowing hard at the sight of her half-naked body with frozen terror in her wide open grey eyes, Lindsay in the end closed them as well.

"Too much" she sighed "there's no time."

Her tears had dried already. She needed to find the only one she could trust, which could be Al and only Al. To lessen the chances of running into George – though having no idea at all where to begin the search for Al – she headed to the east, checking the palmtop every minute.

* * *

Al had no idea which zone he was in, having left his map and weapons back at the house where Willie died. He had heard the gunshots, and was sure he would look pathetic with his 138 centimetres, a music sheet and a huge knife in hand, were he to stand up to and fight against someone with guns… heck, not _someone_! George, George Adams. That boy could come around any moment to shoot him, or he could blow up if it was a danger zone. The fact that Lindsay was alive as well didn't matter, as the girl having any chance against George was simply unrealistic.

Was George Adams to become the _pride of the nation_? Al sighed; he sat back on the sofa with the knife in hand, the bulletproof vest he could not use and Willie's composition lying beside him. Yes, George was going to win. But still… Al would not give up without a fight. What of Lindsay? If she survived, she must have killed. Or was especially lucky at the very least… anyway… Al's stare darkened. Lindsay was a threat too.

* * *

"So, Ryan?" Miss Durham put the microphone down, and looked at her brother "any ideas about the possible winner?"

Ryan Durham checked trough the papers and profiles attentively, and occasionally took a look at the notes from the conversations they listened to.

"Harriet, I now think none of them should be underestimated."

"So it seems like we have reached the same conclusion" nodded Miss Durham "though my favourite, German got eliminated, and though now there is one who clearly seems the most obvious winner, I believe that, taken separately, any of them could emerge victorious."

* * *

Strangely, despite having seen so little of the island since the beginning of the game, and knowing she had no time to check each single zone, Lindsay was perfectly sure she was going to find Al any moment. Any moment…

"No…" she suddenly felt dizzy, her eyelids getting heavy "not now…"

How she knew it, she knew all too well her anemia was going to catch up with her. All she wanted was to curl up under a tree and take a nap – a luxury she could not allow herself to, not there and then. George finding her didn't come to her mind that moment, just that she would have to interrupt her search for Al if she slept.

"Al…" her voice was getting weak.

She had no water, but then she saw the lake.

_Should be clean._

She ran towards it, hoping she would just wash her face and be fresh as new, but suddenly stopped, dropping the crossbow. The red dot showed up on her palmtop, but it wasn't the matter: she had already seen the dead body.

"Gabe!" Gabriel lay on his back, his green eyes empty. A few ants were already crawling over him.

Lindsay almost walked up to close his eyes… but something kept her back. She couldn't do that all the way… not when she was falling asleep any moment.

_Al!_

"Let's take Carter" said Miss Durham, pulling out her envelope "she's weak and cannot run, but is very determined. And, according to the talks, she received the radar, and probably has Scovell's crossbow as well, now. The radar is really useful: if she hides, she could even defeat Adams."

"But Harriet, there are problems with Vine" Ryan listened a few seconds into a conversation "Carter has a soft spot for him."

"Yes, could be right… but she is not to be underestimated."

* * *

George looked up at the mountain: he had not yet been there, though he walked around a lot since the Training began. Are Lindsay and Al hiding in the woods, maybe? Not a thought to dismiss… he decided not to check the fields to the southwest: there were too many danger zones around. But soon he realized climbing the mountain was too much for his sprained ankle, not to mention all the weapons; swearing, he sat under a tree. Opening his bag, he discarded everything he thought useless into a crack he spotted in the ground. No need of the Colt Single Action Army, the taser, the pepper spray, the pickaxe… A MAC10, a Kalashnikov (thanks, Lily!), a Sig Sauer pistol and Browning Hi-Power were more than enough to take out a loser and a dwarf. The sword… for some reason, he didn't want to part with it, and hung it on his backpack again.

"Adams" Ryan lifted up the next file "isn't he the favourite now?"

"He has all the chances to win, right" nodded Miss Durham.

"And with all those weapons…"

"A perfect winner. But he has a big weakness: as I have seen, I think he is a bit too confident. You heard him laughing after the news, didn't you?"

"Yeah."

"He's a tough, strong one. I remember him as one of the trendiest boys in class, a leader… now it's trendy to kill, and he does just so."

"If we were to bet, I'd put my money on him."

"Me too… but there were so many twists up to now!"

"What about Vine, Harriet?"

Miss Durham looked deep in thought, then shook her head.

"I take it as if he's already gone."

"Why?"

She silently pointed at the map, where Al could be clearly seen, not moving from the library.

"It'll become a danger zone in less than two hours and a half. And I don't think he has any weapons… not useful ones, at the very least."

"What if he gets out?"

"I don't think he'll survive."


	31. Fairytale Hero

**Sorry about the huge delay, and probably this is a bit cheesy and messy. Hope you like it anyway, seems like the longest chapter so far!**

**I recently opened a forum here on BR where we can chat or you can give me suggestions. Please visit and leave comments!**

* * *

_/Out of the light, like a star, like a hero_

_Love will survive_

_Taking the fight is the life of a hero_

_Staying alive!_

_This is a story of love and compassion_

_Only heroes can tell_

_Out of the light like a star, like a hero_

_Love... will survive/_

_(Charlotte Perrelli: Hero)_

* * *

Lindsay, swallowing her disgust and repressing the guilt as she felt like a grave robber, opened the tattered backpack lying not far from Gabriel's body. She would not drink from the lake, not when there was a body lying on its shore. And not just _any_ body; Lindsay remembered well the days when she, like several other girls from Jefferson High, had a huge crush on the handsome, kind, gentle and even clever soloist.  
_Oh, Gabe…_

She found a bottle of water, not full, but she didn't care. She also had no idea it was Rose's, all she could see was something to ease her thirst.

_Good._

She stood up forcing herself not to look at Gabriel's body, and ran off eastwards. Too bad she slowed down soon, barely entering zone C8. She panted, sweat dripping on her forehead.

_Weakling. Class loser. Sucks at PE…_

She sat down under a tree, hoping to regain her breath, when she suddenly began feeling dizzy again.

_No! I mustn't! I can't fall asleep now! Why, why now? Why the anemia?_

Lindsay stood up a little unsure, and decided she should just walk. She went forward, her initially slight staggering getting more noticeable with each step.

_Zone C9 becomes dangerous in two hours. If Al is in there, he is most likely to come out soon… and we will team up…_

She almost tripped over a tree root, her steps getting more and more unsure. She decided to chase the thoughts of sleepiness away by thinking about her childhood dreams, which always helped her clear her head when little; maybe they would be useful now?

* * *

_Princess Lindsay stood in the garden of her lovely palace, looking at the magical tree bearing shiny golden apples. Birdies sang for her, a squirrel ran over to her. She was happy, but lonely, dreaming of her prince, her hero…_

"_Groar!" a huge green dragon appeared, his eyes a menacing red._

"_Oh, no!" screamed Princess Lindsay "not my golden apples!"_

_The beast reached out for the tree, when suddenly something shiny tore through the air._

"_Stay away!" the knight in shining armor ordered the dragon "I am here to protect Princess Lindsay and her golden apples!"_

_As the dragon retreated, he turned to the princess, his shimmering sword giving him an even mightier look._

"_My hero!"_

* * *

Lindsay panted, leaning against a yellowish wall.

_Mustn't… fall… asleep…_

She looked up at the _Public Library_ sign. What if Al hid in here? Or… maybe… she could, until zone C9 becomes dangerous…

Lindsay knelt down to look closely at her map, with the three new danger zones noted, complete with the time by which everybody should leave them.  
Then she looked at the palmtop, and her heart suddenly jumped so big that she feared anybody nearby would hear it.

There was a dot showing up not too far from hers, most likely inside the building. Motionless, but what if…

Al heard a faint creak.  
_The door! Someone's at the door!  
_He slowly got up from the sofa, knife in hand.

_It's Al!  
_Lindsay felt pure, honest joy as the other dot moved.  
_Or maybe George?  
_She immediately shook from fear, pocketed the palmtop and grabbed her crossbow tighter.  
_Pocketed it.  
_She couldn't see whether Al was moving towards her or perhaps backing away. But he had to be in the adjacent room…  
Lindsay stood beside the reception's counter, the door leading to the reading room of the library slightly ajar. She took a step to the side, in order to have enough room to operate the crossbow in case it was George on the other side.

Al, knife in hand, moved behind the door. As it opened towards the hall, he could see the person's left leg – wearing tight, girly blue jeans and tennis shoes. _Lindsay_.  
_So she came all the way here to exterminate more people – she must be playing this game too… I would have never thought this…  
_  
Lindsay realized just then she couldn't kick the door in, but opening it by pulling it towards her could easily cost her her life and…  
Her thoughts were interrupted here.

Al kicked the door open and threw himself at Lindsay, his small frame moving with unexpected swiftness and agility.

"Aaah…!" the crossbow slipped away on the hard surfaced floor as Lindsay fell on her back with Al on top of her, straddling her, holding a sharpened knife right above her face… a second later, blood dripped on her lips from the blade.

Al didn't say a word, nor did he scream or shout, his eyes narrowed. Yet he didn't move, just held the bloody knife above the girl's face.

"Oh…!" Lindsay touched her right cheek, her fingers turning red from the blood seeping from the cut right across there.

Al kept on staring. Then something sank in.

_The knife… blood dripping from the knife…_

He had cut Lindsay's pretty face, probably involuntarily the moment after he decided to attack and kill her. It was just a cut, probably would not even require a plaster to stop bleeding. But the blood dripping… the long knife… this was different. Thinking about killing and actually doing it. Pressing the knife hard into Lindsay's chest… or her throat…

"Al…" she whispered "don't kill me…"

Her world didn't crumble yet, but cracks appeared in the blue skies of the magical garden, the golden apples began to fall from the tree.

_Al… he… he is trying to kill me… he… he is GOING to kill me!_

Al stared into her pleading tear-filled chocolate brown eyes…

"I can't do this."

Lindsay stayed flat on the ground as Al lowered the knife and climbed off her, sitting against the reception's counter.

Neither of them said a word.

A few apples rose from the ground and flew back to the magical tree as Lindsay sat up and pressed a hand against her bleeding cheek.

"Al?"

He stood up, still without saying a word, walked to the crossbow and… in the end, he just left it there.

_What if she picks it up and shoots me? One more useless life away… Fuck this stupid game…_

"Al!"

"What?" he turned at her angrily, his eyes sparkling "get the fuck out of here! You should be happy I let you live and have your fucking weapon!"

He turned his heels and ran inside the reading room, where he pulled his knees up, huddling himself up on the sofa, beside the bulletproof vest and Willie's composition, his knife still hanging in his hand.

Lindsay won't leave it at that. Taking her map out of her bag, she followed him.

"Al! Al!"

She reached the sofa, map in hand, and sat down beside him.

How much she just wanted to tell him they were in a danger zone, that she came to warn him, then show him her palmtop, then they could just run and figure a way out and…

"Al…"

He didn't look up at her… but she didn't notice. Her dizziness just increased.

"Al… the library… C9… oh…!"

Al blushed and startled as Lindsay's body slumped to the side, her head resting on his shoulder as she fell in a comatose sleep.

* * *

"Damn it… fuck my stupid ankle, fuck off, Nick…" George panted, climbing up the mountain. He held one of his pistols tight, he could defend himself or gun down somebody with that, he didn't need the MAC10 all the time, and anyway, it was hanging on his shoulder, so he could reach it, just as the Kalashnikov. What about the sword? It looked so cool...

"Hells, hells, hells!" he sat down under a tree, then took his shoe and the bandage off and looked at his injured ankle. It was red and a bump had formed, but he could still walk.

_Better to bandage it again._

He did so, and was relieved to find a small pack of painkillers in his own backpack.

_Thanks, Mom!_

For Mrs Adams was often worried her precious youngest son would catch something, and always provided him with a few pills, just in case.

"Phew" George closed his eyes for a minute as he lay his head back, against the trunk.

_Just a few minutes and I will feel the effect._

"Crawk!"

"What the fuck?" he opened his eyes.

_Oh, just some silly bird._

The crow flew low above him, then landed on something.

George first thought of letting it go, but curiosity won him over. Walking towards where he had seen the crow land, he suddenly felt a strong stench.

"Ew!"

The crow, its beak bloodied, was digging in a pile of bloody meat, flies all around; George noticed something white moving on one end: maggots…

But _who_ was it?

George was surprised how he was left relatively untouched by the dead body, one of his classmates, seemingly killed by a violent explosion or a huge spray of bullets. Maybe it was because he didn't see them die, he didn't know what they were like before… unlike… _unlike Maddie_.

Anger boiled in him again. He had no bottle in his hand now, nothing to break… so he quickly picked up the sword, and stuck it in a nearby tree with one swift movement. The crack of the wood and the power he felt was enough. He pulled the blade out and sighed deeply.

_Victory is near. Then I'll be able to go home. _

Anyway, he realized Al and Lindsay probably weren't around. He decided to leave the mountain by another way, to the southeast, of course avoiding the danger zones. Limping, but at a steady pace, George Adams left the body of the unknown friend.

* * *

Meanwhile, Al couldn't figure out what to do.

"Linnie? Linnie!" he tried shaking her delicately, but all he got was a faint moan, she didn't even open her eyes.

He scooted away, holding her head, but she merely slumped completely on her side on the sofa, not waking up for a single moment.

"Um…" Al looked around somewhat disoriented.  
He knew Lindsay was a sleepyhead, but this was a bit too much. Okay, there are times when people are sleepy or tired, but falling in a semi-coma just like that seemed incredible, and in the middle of the Training, for heaven's sake! To tell the truth, this would make her an easy target…

_No!_

Al shook his head vigorously. Lindsay was considered an outcast, but he knew she wasn't evil or stupid, just a little weird and out of fashion. Come to think of it, talking to her could even prove quite pleasant. Then again, he couldn't just kill an innocent girl in her sleep. She didn't harm him. In fact, she wanted to tell him something… but what? What on Earth?

_Poof._

The thick paper of the map hit the floor as it slipped from Lindsay's limp hand.

_Oh, so she has one. Thank goodness…_

Al picked it up, and looked at the newly crossed out zones. The library wasn't marked, just as the sports centre, maybe to make the game more "interesting", but Al knew he had passed the DIY shop going in a straight line northwards, so maybe they were in the next zone… C9. His eyes widened. _Danger zone at 3 PM…_

_Beep._

Al stared horrified at his watch, which signaled every hour.

"Linnie! Linnie! Linnie, please, get up, I beg you! It's two o'clock!"

"Mmm…" Lindsay pulled her arms close to her chest, but didn't wake up.

A thousand thoughts ran across Al's mind. He could just leave her there and run, but then he would live with the thought of letting an innocent girl die, with her head blown off, and…

_Come on, Alistair Vine!_

"Uh?" he looked up, then realized the voice came from inside his head. He closed his eyes for a moment to see clearly.

Willie pointed the spoon at him menacingly…

Al decided. He couldn't have done anything to save Willie… but he _can_ save Lindsay now. He didn't care about the stupid rules, that only one can survive and all: his honesty won over everything else. Al would never let someone die because he was a coward thinking only about himself.

"Come!" he struggled to pull Lindsay up in a sitting position, then stood up to pull her off the sofa.

Her eyes opened slightly for a second, then closed again.

"Aaargh!" Al finally managed to pull Lindsay off, but she collapsed on the floor, still in a deep slumber.

"Linnie! Linnie!" he began to shake her shoulders, this time harder.

_One hour._

It was one hour, but better to be safe in time. And with Lindsay in this condition, Al needed every precious second.

"Hmm…" Lindsay, her eyes still closed, made a weak attempt to kneel up and rose a hand on the sofa to support herself.

"Good… very good…" Al needed to say something, words giving him strength "hold on!"

He slipped under Lindsay's arm, and tried to stand up with all his might.

_I might be small, I might be weak… but I need, I need to do this!_

With a groan, he finally pushed himself up on his feet, Lindsay's almost entire weight against him, her arm around his shoulder. Because of their striking height difference, she stood shakily, her knees bent.

Al realized there was no way he could carry Lindsay to safety, not to mention his injured left arm hurt as he embraced her, trying to make her stand.

"Wake up!" he shouted.

No response.

"Oh damn… never… whatever!"

Al once vowed never to do this, but this time he had to. He clenched his teeth and gave Lindsay a huge slap.

"Uh?" her eyes shot open.

"Walk! Come!"

_Oh my, Al's embracing me!_

Lindsay's cheeks flushed deeply.

She walked shakily, and holding on to Al, her sleepiness setting in again. Her eyes slowly closed… but half asleep, she managed to stagger.

To Al, their pace seemed excruciatingly slow, while the clock ticked mercilessly, minutes flying by at the speed of light. Nevertheless, he swore to take Lindsay to safety.

They passed by the crossbow, lying forgotten on the ground, the out the door, Lindsay nearly stumbling over the threshold.

"Come on…" Al held her, but now that she was somewhat walking on her own, it seemed less difficult.

* * *

"Look, Ryan!" Miss Durham pointed at the monitor "Vine and Carter are about to leave the danger zone!"

"So they shouldn't be taken as gone yet" the man smiled.

"There are surprises in this game indeed…"

* * *

Al looked at his watch.

_Oh damn, 2:35 PM! And we're not out the zone yet!_

Then, he finally caught a glimpse of the DIY shop in the distance. Fairly sure it was at the south end of the next zone, D9, he tried to keep walking, just to be sure.

"Linnie, please, please, hold on!"

"Hmm…" Lindsay felt the world blackening, as the sleep caught up with her again.

"Linnie! Linnie!"

Al held her tight, but boy, was she heavy! Maybe just for him, though…

_Just a few metres… should be enough…_

"Uaargh!" Al let go of Lindsay near a tree, about a hundred metres from the DIY shop, well into zone D9, the three dead bodies not yet in sight.

The girl groaned and curled up. Al stared at her slumbering for a few seconds, then he shook in horror.

_Willie! Everything!_

The composition, the knife, the bulletproof vest, her backpack, the map… everything was still inside the library! And the clock just kept on ticking inexorably, there was no escape, _2:45 PM…_

_I have to try._

"Sorry, Linnie!" Al left her, and ran northwards.

* * *

"Suicidal" Miss Durham lit a cigarette, and quietly watched the longer clockhand moving one minute forward.

* * *

Al felt his lungs almost collapsing as he reached the library door sweating and panting. And time won't stop… not that he was bad at running, but carrying Lindsay all that way wore him out, adding that his short legs certainly didn't allow anything special…

He walked fast to the reading room, stuffed Willie's composition into one of the large pockets of his square-patterned shirt, somehow managed to bend the bulletproof vest in half and tuck it under his arm, then put on Lindsay's backpack (after putting the map into it) and picked up the knife.

On the way out, he didn't have time to hesitate. Ignoring the weight, he picked up the crossbow too.

Considerably slowed down by the weight and nearly losing his balance, Al tried his best to escape zone C9, as his watch signaled it was 2:55 PM.

* * *

Lindsay rubbed her eyes and slowly opened them.

"Where am I…?"

Suddenly her memory came back, and sleepiness left her.

"Al!" she screamed. But he was nowhere in sight.

"Oh, no!" she sat up, and frantically moved her hands on the grassy ground, as if searching for something… something that was not there.

In the end, she pulled out her palmtop, which, thank goodness, was still safe in her pocket, and in working order, too.

Her dot in the middle… suddenly another one appeared to the north, steadily advancing towards her.

"George!" she screamed, her hands still searching. In the end, she found but a branch.

_It's no use! Al, oh, Al, where are you?_

Golden apples fell from the magical tree; Al had abandoned her, left her to her fate.

"Al…?"

The figure appeared. Way too small to be George. Yes, yes, it was _him_!

Lindsay stood up and motioned to walk towards him, when he shouted:  
"Don't come any closer!"

"What…?"

_2:59 PM._

Al tried to run, but the weight pulled him down… he thought he had reached the border of the two zones, but he couldn't be sure. He threw the crossbow as far as he could, then began to run.

_5…4…3…2…1…_

_Beep!_

"Aaaah!" Al jumped, then fell on his belly, the ground scratched his face…

He waited. Waited for the explosion to tear his head off. One second passed, and nothing happened. Then another. Still nothing.

* * *

"What a lucky one! A fool, but a lucky fool!" Miss Durham looked at the monitor. Al was barely two metres out of zone C9, by then definitely a danger zone.

Ryan nodded.

* * *

"Al?" Lindsay walked up to him.

"It's all right, Linnie…" he smiled weakly "I think I made it, Willie's music is with me… and take the crossbow, you can use it…"

Lindsay's eyes were shining. The thought of her shooting him apparently didn't even cross Al's mind. Just as the thought of him stabbing her didn't cross hers, as he knelt up and looked at his knife.

"Here, your backpack… and maybe this, I guess you can use it" he tossed her the bulletproof vest.

"Wait a minute…" she felt lost in a dreamworld, Al was there, helping her, the insane rules of the Training fading away.

She reached in her backpack, then pulled out a napkin and her first-aid kit, from which he took the disinfectant.

"This might hurt…"

"Linnie…?"

"Sssh…" she dripped the liquid on the napkin, then applied it to Al's cheek.

"Yours needs this more…" his thin white fingers touched the cut on her face, the cut _he _had caused.

"It doesn't matter…"

"Thank you, Linnie" Al smiled, then stood up "I suppose we can do something together…"

He didn't want to ask her where she had been, had she killed, or anything. Just as she didn't want to think about such things. Maybe the answers will come out once their hearts settle down, in a few minutes.

Al ran a hand through his shiny red hair, he held the knife in his hand, as the sunrays reflected on the blade.

Lindsay's eyes filled with tears of joy as she watched in astonishment.

The tree behind Al suddenly filled with golden apples.

His shirt turned to a shining armor, his knife to a shimmering sword.

Her hero had came.


	32. Tears of Blood

**I know, you're gonna be angry at me. You'll now know why this chapter was so excruciatingly hard to write, and I still am not satisfied with it. I won't say "enjoy it". I won't say anything.**

**Oh, and if you'd like to, feel free to visit my forum!**

* * *

_/Caress the one, the never fading_

_Rain in your heart_

_The tears of snow white sorrow_

_Caress the one, the hiding amaranth_

_In a land of the daybreak…/_

(Nightwish: Amaranth)

* * *

"It's okay, Al, you can look now!" smiled Lindsay.

Al turned back just as the girl pulled down her yellow T-shirt, completely covering the bulletproof vest under it.

Al had led Lindsay away from near the DIY shop, though she showed no sign of having noticed the bodies (little did he know it was because she was far too happy to be with her _knight in shining armor_ to be aware of anything else), and now they were in zone E10, in a sparsely wooded area.

"So" she knelt down next to their weapons "how should we divide them?"

"The crossbow, I think, is heavy for me… then, the radar, but that's not really a weapon… and we have…"

"A knife" said Lindsay, obviously a little disappointingly "George has guns. Not one, but many…"

"You're fairly safe."

"Sure, but what about you? You can't just walk around with that knife, and what if I don't notice him in time?"

"Then keep this, too!" Al handed her the palmtop.

"But Al, then you'll have nothing!"

"The knife."

"Yeah, but how about you having this and warning me?"

"And shouting? He might notice us!"

"Then whisper."

"No, no, no, Linnie, you keep it."

Lindsay gave up. For some weird reason, she felt safe, though she knew all too well George was still loose on the island, perhaps not even far from the two of them. But she was happy, Al was with her…

Al had never felt anything special towards Lindsay. He never bullied her, occasionally spoke to her, but mostly preferred to leave her be. Somehow he wasn't afraid she would kill him, and, being so short, he would have not have much use as a human shield either. For the time being, it was fine.

"We'll also get this out of this damn island" Al showed up Willie's musical composition.

"What is that? Let me see!"

"Willie composed it… it's titled _The Training_" Al closed his eyes for a second, both to hold back the tears and to exclude the outside word, remembering the tune "I can still hear it… imagine, Linnie…"

As Al hummed the tune, poor Lindsay stared at the notes totally lost. Though she liked both classical and modern music, could remember catchier tunes and had fun and was decent at karaoke, the miserable grades Miss Lacombe usually gave her and the fact that she couldn't even learn to play _Baa Baa Black Sheep_ on the flute were clear indicators that she lacked any musical talent whatsoever. The realization flashed through Al's mind when she asked a – to him, incredibly stupid – question.

"So, uh, I can see, this is a _do_, right?" she pointed at a note.

Al tried not to look too scandalized, maybe she was just in shock.

"Actually, that's a C. It depends on where you put the _do_, as the G-clef here indicates the G sound…"

Lindsay felt as if Al was speaking Chinese. She had vague memories about Miss Lacombe and the unfortunate flute teacher unsuccessfully trying to hammer something similar in her mind, but her comprehension stopped somewhere around the basics of solfège.

She nevertheless nodded, not wanting to disappoint Al. She remembered a solfège teacher from years back illustrating the note in question as a _do_, and she stuck to it since then. Somehow she found it easier to remember things this way, not that she wanted to become a singer or musician at any point; she would just have to survive music class.

"I see" she faked to Al "sorry, I just thought of a tune that had the _do_ there…"

"Well yes, the deep C is often considered a _do_, but not in this kind of composition and…" Al drew a deep sigh "never mind. We'll get this out, and then I'll play it to you, maybe ask Zach to help, he has talent, he can play a tune even from basic instructions... ah, whatever, now we have other things to do…"

* * *

"Oh, no, you don't" grinned Miss Durham "honestly, getting something titled _The Training_ out of here? I seriously doubt it."

Ryan shook his head too.

* * *

"So what now?"

"Um…" Al seemed deep in thought "Linnie, I agree we need something else now. Did you see George?"

Lindsay's eyes filled with tears.

"Oh! I'm sorry!"

"It's okay, Al" she wiped her eyes "he killed Lily and Danny… yes, I did."

"What did he have?"

"Many, many guns…"

Al's face suddenly lit up.

"Did he have a shotgun?"

"No… I don't think so, no, nothing that long…"

Al wondered for another moment.

_Then it must still be in the house. And it was lighter than this crossbow, I picked it up and… but Willie…_

Will he have the guts to pick up a gun from next to his best friend's corpse? Sure as hell George wasn't in the house any more, if Lindsay was to be believed. He just had to be careful not to stumble across G8, the danger zone, even if it was to become such only at 5 PM; it was already a quarter to 4. G10… the house was there. But to run down there with Lindsay right behind, she seeing how Willie died and all… no way.

"Linnie…" he began slowly "I think I can find a shotgun for us to use."

"Amazing! Where?" Lindsay jumped up and looked around, as if expecting a person ready to hand them a shotgun walk out of the woods.

"Um, not here…" Al still spoke very slowly, unsure about whether he should really do it "I know a place…"

"Let's go then!"

He shook his head.

"I'll go alone… if I go."

"Why? Am I slow? Am I bad? You want to _leave _me?"

"Linnie!"

"Sorry…"

Al suddenly took Lindsay's hand. The girl blushed and was just about to embrace him when she noticed he only did so to take a closer look at her watch.

"Um, mine is a little slow compared to yours" he quickly adjusted his own "perfect, now the time matches. We'll meet at half past 5 next to the DIY… uh, no, wait…"  
Al remembered the bodies there.

"… next to the sports centre."

"Why don't we just pick a zone?"

"We have this single map, hello? And I'm not sure how long it'll take, I'll probably be at the spot even before."

"Sorry… then, you take the map and the radar…"

"No, you keep both. I want to be quick, not carrying objects, and the shotgun is huge. With map, radar and whatever in my hands, I don't think I could carry it. And no use to put the stuff in my backpack, I will not see them there."

"But… the danger zones…"

"Look, Linnie, there is a clear way to… there, the house. I'll go, you stay here."

"Wait, Al!"

"No!"

"Take care…"

"Oh, yes, sure, whatever!"

Al ran off, with only the knife in his belt. It was not the ideal time for tearful goodbyes.

Lindsay crouched under a tree. She kept her palmtop beside her, in sight along with the map, and the crossbow by her hand. Yet she did not feel safe at all any more, she feared George, feared for Al, feared for both their lives. Feared for their _love_, not caring it existed only in her mind, her dreams.

A few minutes later, she decided that, rather than waiting for her nerves to snap, she should occupy herself with something, and picked up Willie's composition, hoping to see some logic in the weird expressions Al said earlier. She could not imagine the tune, just vaguely remembered the boy humming it. It was quite catchy…

She turned the pages in the partition. There weren't too many filled, but repeating and maybe changing the composition here and there could surely make it immortal and way longer, as this was probably just the basis, enough to make it a masterpiece, as far as Lindsay was aware, of course. Not really realizing their weight at first, Lindsay, her mind already elsewhere, stared at drops of blood among the notes.

* * *

George, having bandaged his foot again and carefully avoiding the danger zones (and mostly the place where he had left Maddie) had already left the mountain long before. Slightly limping, he walked straight along a safe line – line F – going eastwards. Even if he weren't to reach the shop in zone G8 before 5 PM, he would still have a good chance of finding Lindsay and Al somewhere around there. Lindsay was a goner anyway, but it was Al he was truly angry at. He had escaped. He had humiliated him! Like that prettyboy Gabriel, who had all the girls at his feet, while _he_, George should have had them! Lily assured him he was amazing in bed! Also, Al was a small target, hard to hit from a distance… and George could not run. Not with that ankle (_fuck you, Nick!_), so he would have to corner him. Or what if he had other weapons?

George wondered all through the possible chances while walking. Not stopping for a single moment. Not thinking about the pain, about the weight.

_I need to get rid of this sword._

Yet, it was too fascinating, too _powerful_ – ah, the energy when he struck it in that tree! – to just drop.

_Victory._

Only that counted. George, already tasting it, crossed the border between zone F6 and F7 shortly after 4 PM.

* * *

Al reached F8 (two horrific dead bodies were lying in the forest about 50 metres away from him) and panted against a tree. G8 was still safe, and G10 was not about to become a danger zone anytime soon. What if he looked in the shop? It was half past 4, Lindsay would meet him only at half past 5. Short legs… and no pack. However, Al was really thirsty. If not taking it back, he would still need something to drink. Wiping the sweat from his forehead, he looked around to ascertain George wasn't in sight, then entered the small store.

"What the…"

He saw utter destruction inside, shelves on the ground, liquids and food – some of it rotten – cluttering the ground, intense smell of spice and other filling the air. As if a hurricane had swept through it. Al could have had no idea it was all due to George and Nick fighting to the death that very morning. He looked around to see if there was something to drink apart from the small liquor bottles kept near the counters – luckily, he noticed a few big soft drink and water bottles still intact. Al was weak, so it took him slightly longer than the average person to turn the cap, but in the end the mineral water bottle opened.

"Thank goodness!" he smiled and drank.

* * *

_Now these clearly aren't notes._

Her mind still wandering, Lindsay stared at the red spots dotting the paper.

_This is a Secret Project…_

The girl's eyes suddenly widened. Now, a blood-spattered partition with words like _The Training_ written not only at the top (Willie wanted to make sure they knew the title), wasn't something she and Al could just take home.

She_ and_ Al. The version she_ or_ Al didn't even cross her mind, let alone the possibility of George walking on the red carpet as _pride of the nation_.

Lindsay had to think of something, and, of course, asking Al for his approval, too bad she had no talent in reading most of the arcane symbols on the partition, only the basic ones, the notes and the sounds. She searched through her backpack, not the one she received, her old one, hoping to find something.

"Perfect" she took out a pen and her notebook titled _Writing Excercises_. Since Mrs. Moody told her she had talent as a writer, she would always take it along to scribble in case inspiration came by. Somehow, though, copying a piece of music inside a plain, lined notebook which until then was full of Shakespeare quotes and silly poems or never finished "stories" of barely a couple of lines, generally about dreams, love and knights in shining armor would have seemed strange, and Lindsay didn't understand the meaning of half of the symbols anyway. She knew a few, and Willie only occasionally used notes exceeding the traditional ones used. G-clef or whatever, that she could remember. Also, the very bases of solfège – Al would kill her! Nevertheless, maybe just to distract herself, she began writing.

* * *

George gritted his teeth. It hurt, oh how it hurt. He would not just leave that damn sword there! He would toss it into the sea… the _power_! Oh, and he would need to reach the shop. Maybe some energy drink got salvaged. He reached F8, one zone from the shop, at quarter to 5; there, he cursed. With this injured ankle, no chance of getting inside, looking around, taking something and going out before his head blows off. And oh, he would not die like that…

"What… FUCK!"

George, so deep in his thoughts about energy drink and victory, almost stumbled over a gruesome scene.

Rose lay on her back, an axe stuck in the middle of her head, blood all over her face, her hand severed. Martha's head rested on her best friend's chest; if it wasn't for the bullet holes and the red fluid staining her hair, she would have looked asleep.

_This…_

It was the second worst thing George had seen. _Maddie…_

He felt rage and anger boiling. But this time, he would not shoot in the air or stuck the sword into some nearby object. Oh, no, no way.

He was going for the _kill_. Whoever of those two losers crosses his path sooner, they would not get away with it. Al would get some cartridges emptied in him, maybe. A bullet was too good for that nobody of Lindsay, however. George couldn't wait to hear her scream and whine as he tortured her, this time physically. Not the way he would taunt and bully her, no matter she tried to hide behind her books or wander on the corridor during breaks, hoping not to confront him alone in the classroom…

* * *

Al quickly exited the shop and ran towards zone G10. Since the rich house with the piano was at its western border, so it was not far – not at all. After a few minutes of sprinting, he finally spotted the wrought iron fence. But he could, and would not, rest. Not if he wanted to get back to Lindsay.

He shielded his mind from Nick's corpse as he entered through the shattered window, but his tears of sorrow began falling uncontrollably as he reached for the shotgun. Willie stared at him with glassy eyes, lying over his beloved piano.

"Forgive me!" he picked up the shotgun, knowing it was loaded, and not noticing the slight dent at the end of its barrel.

George hoped to make the gun unusable; but Al did not know this.

"I'll go! And Willie, your composition…" he looked into his eyes "your name will shine in neon letters!"

He just held the weapon.

"Goodbye…" he closed his friend's eyes, not bearing their stare.

But now Al, despite crying desperately, felt as if a weight lifted from his heart. He managed to say goodbye to Willie, and not only sneaking in, taking the composition, as if it was all that counted. Friendship, the very _person_ of William Wosley, a life ended so soon and so suddenly.

_It's okay, Linnie, I'm coming!_

Going for a shortcut, he looked around, then ran slightly to the west, getting to F9 before quarter past 5.

_Good._

E9, with the sports centre, was going to be a piece of cake.

If it weren't from the gunshots coming a second later...!

* * *

_Pretty._

Lindsay had just finished. She smiled at her short poem, lines neatly numbered, and the repeating codes under them. _Rhyming practice_ was the title she gave, hoping Miss Durham would let her and Al keep at least this silly notebook. She would make a few changes, though, for she would have had to discuss it with someone who understood music better than her; though a person like that wasn't very difficult to find, in the island only Al could help her.

"So" she put the notebook away "quarter to 5. Better to get going."

_Huh?_

Cracks. From the south.

_NO!_

It was against her best instincts to run directly there, against all odds, against the fire, against George. But Al, oh Al, please don't die!

She was never a good runner, and suddenly she tripped over a stone and fell flat, the cut on her face started bleeding again, and a small wound opened on her forehead, not to mention she also scratched her elbows.

"Oww…" she tried to stand up, only to find she couldn't. No, she didn't break anything; she just needed time, and not jump up too suddenly.

However, time was the exact one thing she couldn't afford to lose.

* * *

"Aah…!" Al felt a bullet scraping his side; it didn't bleed, but burned quite a bit.

_Why him, why now? Linnie, hold on, I'm there!_

George swore as the Kalashnikov ran out of bullets. He tossed it to the ground and grasped the MAC10, but Al disappeared from sight. He would need to catch up with that dwarf before firing like mad, and what was he holding, a stick?

Al suddenly stopped. _He_ would shoot George. He had the shotgun, after all! The fact that then only he and Lindsay would remain, most likely forced to kill each other, didn't worry him. He just wanted to eliminate the psycho who took his best friend from him. But he also knew he never held a shotgun before, and, were he in sight, he would get filled with bullets in a few seconds. He needed to hide… flat against a house and in the shade of a tree, Al waited for George.

_There_.

The trendy boy soon appeared, glancing around disoriented. He did not notice him.

_Closer… closer…_

George continued inexorably towards him, but showed no signs of having seen him.

* * *

_Where could that motherfucking dwarf be?_

George got fairly close to the wall of a house surrounded by trees.

_BOOM!_

It wasn't just a shot. Not a _bang_, it was a full explosion!

Al fell on his back, the shotgun's end blown off, his hearing gone, if not for good, then for a while at least… a shadow cast upon him…

George felt the MAC10 slip from his hand, but didn't hear anything. Covering his ears, he saw a small frame squirming on the ground.

"NO!" Al could barely hear his own voice, and struggled to get on his feet. Blood trickled from both his ears, especially from the right one. Deafness would be death for a musician, but he wanted to become an architect...

George heard the other boy shout something, but he didn't care. He was going for the _kill_.

_The power he felt… the sword… that amazing sword…_

Al didn't want to die – not by George's hand, hell no! He pulled out his knife and managed to stand up, as far as he could see, George was not holding a gun any more.

George pulled back a moment, but then grinned.

_A knife? Pathetic…_

He didn't even stop to wonder if Lindsay was around. He didn't even reach for his pistol.

"Come on, kill me!" shouted Al, hoping to throw his opponent a little off guard, or at least to realize he was about to kill the one he used to party and play soccer with not even that long ago.

_I'll carve out your heart…_

Maybe it was the adrenaline, but for a few moments Al was completely sure he was going to kill George easily, then and there.

George looked at Al in open defiance.

A sudden motion was all it took. George, with much longer arms than Al, punched him in the face without any warning or dramatic wordplay.

"Aah!" Al's nose wan't broken or bleeding, but as he rose his hands to his face, he dropped the knife.

A few steps backwards, until he felt the bark of a tree.

_NO!_

This was his last clear thought. He couldn't even wish for the fatal bullet to come quickly, or for a blow to hurt only for a second. Nothing, only frozen fear remained as George swiftly drew the sword.

* * *

"Oww…" Lindsay saw stars as she sat up.

_Clumsy loser._

She rubbed her head, but the adrenaline through her veins wasn't enough for her to suddenly jump up and run.

_Al!_

She had heard the explosion. Holding on to a tree, she tried to stand. Maybe she could still save him… _maybe?_ Where did optimistic Lindsay go?

_Sure as hell we're fighting together!_

But she was slow. She tried to walk fast, but couldn't.

* * *

_Monster…_

Al's head was spinning, blood filling his mouth.

George just stared at him, stared at what he had done.

Al spat out some of the blood, no, why did he have to look downwards? To remind him, seeing it, as if the pain wasn't enough already?

George saw the drops of blood drip from the blade.

Slowly, very slowly, something began to sink in. He had slit Michael's throat, but he didn't look him in the eyes. He had brutally murdered Maddie, but she died fast, and her face was gone. He had shot Daniel, but didn't take any closer look at him. He had shot Willie, but in the back. He had raped Lily, but then stabbed her fast. But this…

Was he just going to stand and stare?

"Fuck!" he turned around, picked up the MAC10, and, as far as he could, ran in the direction of the sea. He felt it, but didn't really care about the blood abundantly flowing from his left ear.

Al had no more clear thoughts, not even that after all, George's face wasn't going to be the last thing he'd see in his life. Only the suffering remained.

Looking downwards and spitting blood at irregular intervals, he tried to hold on to the tree trunk, but each movement, even breathing, caused immense pain and more and more blood loss... If Al ever thought about dying in the Program, he'd have hoped it would be a bullet to the head: fast, and relatively painless. Or maybe, if it was going to be long, bleeding to death maybe, then he'd just lie down, close his eyes, feel the peace and drift away among the clouds…

_Not like this…!_

The handle of the sword and part of the blade sticking out of his stomach, blood continuously dripping from it, blood staining the tree to which he was firmly nailed to, feet firm on the ground…

Lindsay noticed a dot appearing on the screen of her palmtop as she walked south. It wasn't moving, but maybe…

She reached a small house, the reading appeared to come from its other side. She rushed there.

"AL!"

The palmtop and the map hit the ground.

He looked at her, maybe not even realizing any more it was her. A line of blood came from his mouth, dripping down on the handle and the blade.

_I'll pull it out, it's okay…_

But Lindsay's legs gave up and she fell to her knees. A moment later, tears completely blinded her vision.

In addition to the faded sounds, even the world was getting blurry, though very slowly. Al saw Lindsay, but did not smile at her. He just spat more blood and tried to breathe. She was there. The realization reached him, but he failed to show it.

"Aaah… hhhaa…" Lindsay, resisting the urge to bite her arm again, crawled to Al. How she wished to embrace him, to kiss him, to tell him she loved him!

The sword prevented it all. And her incessant crying wouldn't stop for a moment to allow her to talk.

"Lhin…" she rose her head, wiping her tears.

"Don't… try… to talk…"

"Nho… nothhaa… ah… loone…"

Al looked down at her, though this forced him to stare at the handle too.

Ten minutes had passed since George had left. Lindsay's eyes dried up, but she just convulsed in immense pain, folding her arms around herself, whining and moaning, unable to say anything, as blood from the blade and Al's mouth dripped down to her and on her. He was _dying, _right in front of her, in a painful and suffering way, horribly, and there was nothing, _nothing_ she could do! It was too much for her mind, her body, her soul...

Al's eyes were slowly emptying. The closest tree had already turned to some unrecognizable blob. The figure in front of him to a mixture of brown on top, some white, yellow and blue.

Lindsay touched his legs, not that he cared.

For one last moment, as Al felt his soul slipping from his body and the pain finally over, he saw Lindsay's face clearly.

Red and crystal mixed as Al's head slumped forward and more blood dripped from his mouth, painting long trails of bloody tears running down Lindsay's pretty face.

**Boy #13 Vine, Alistair - eliminated**

**2 contestants remaining**


	33. And then?

**Guys, if I abandon a story, I say so, unless it's awful and I'm ashamed of it. Now only an epilogue is left, but I'll probably post my new BR story before that.**_  
_

**Challenge: try and figure out Lindsay's code! And please, take a look at my forum if you wish to! **

* * *

_/Sing of fire, sing of will_**  
**

_Sing to justify to kill..._

_Boy of the surge_

_Compliance won't make you a man_

_Sleeping makes you suffer_

_The secret's hidden in the sand.../_

(I:Scintilla: Toy Soldier)

* * *

_1. In the clouds, a kingdom I see_

_2. Dreams live on, as it should be_

_3. When I look on, I miss you so much_

_4. You are so far, I long for your touch_

_5. But you will not stay, so let me finally go_

_6. I wished it would last forever, but it was not so_

_7. I slip away in the peace, silently_

_8. Just please, do not forget me…_

Silly text, silly rhymes. Lindsay had an urge to rip it all apart, along with most of her other writings. Lines neatly numbered, and several rows of the same eight numbers, switched around in all possible ways, filled the rest of the page, occasionally interrupted by some asterisks. She had good memory, but doubted she would remember what they meant – she was too afraid to use different symbols. Also, just filling the page with numbers would have made no sense among a teenage girl's inane ramblings; it would undoubtedly arise suspicion. _Rhyming excercise. _Maybe this way it won't.

Lindsay knew all too well the only way anyone will ever understand what she meant was by surviving – and therefore, killing. Thinking about it, it just seemed so easy. Not so much in real life.

* * *

Ironically, George, sitting on the sandy beach, was struggling with similar thoughts. He washed Al's blood off his hands in the shallow sea, noticing how faintly he could hear the waves. His hearing was most likely damaged beyond any chance of recovery, especially in his left ear, as it just wouldn't stop bleeding.

_Kill or be killed_. Those were the rules. _Fuck the popular girl and be trendy_. Those were other rules – and George would always, always play by them. The shallow popular high school clique would accept only those who did so. Not those who got freaky in front of the piano, or who refused to get laid and preferred stargazing to shopping, or who cut their hair themselves and wore no makeup.

Just eliminate some people, then get on top. These were his thoughts. Like in those shooting video games, he never gave a damn about the virtual people dying. This was just like that, except that the lifeless puppets had the faces of his classmates. But anyway, it will be over soon, he'll walk on the red carpet, and then…

_And then…_

Al's eyes. It was the first time George really saw what he had done, but refused to believe it. Until then, it was only a game, _bang bang_, end of story.

_And then…_

Oh well, then he'll go and see a football match at the school and cheer at Michael's spectacular goals, and maybe invite Lily over for some fun and then…

_And then…_

Unlike Nick, the fact that everything was gone forever did not leave George untouched.

"But those were the rules!" he said through gritted teeth "kill to be _trendy_…"

But a cold-blooded killer, the monster he had became, was anything but that.

George wanted to scream, to cry out, to _do_ something, or rather, to _undo_ everything so far. He never really went up to anybody with the intention to kill – self-defense, that's what it was initially, then just playing by the rules like always, without any second thought… like when he first saw Lily, he never ever thought much of her. Nevertheless, he played the Don Giovanni and got her laid, as that was what they'd expect. _They_, the nameless, faceless, shallow crowd. Kill someone, and they will cheer, as that was expected of him, George Adams, or anyone else. How easy was it to say it, and even to do it, without ever thinking it through.

Al's eyes.

Then and there, on the beach, was the first time George Adams stopped to wonder since the Training began. Before that, he just followed the rules like a machine, never considering anything else.

Will this make him trendy, make him a man? What would _they_ say? And… what will happen?

_And then…?_

* * *

Lindsay carefully laid Willie's partition at Al's feet before finally leaving. She didn't even bother to wipe the tears of blood from her face, there was no reason why. No reason for anything at all, no reason any more.

The partition lay there like a battered tombstone, as Lindsay made her way westwards, aimlessly. Then she looked up at the sports centre, and slowly began walking towards it. She was staggering, but not from sleepiness any more.

* * *

George, legs crossed, tried in vain to wipe his tears.

_A man doesn't cry._

However, merely a boy, who became the very incarnation of everything he never wanted to be, has all the reasons to do so.

He knew all too well those sky-blue eyes, slowly emptying, will always haunt his dreams, and Lily's broken, violated body as well. They will all spring to life, not like zombies or ghosts in stupid movies, but more like mementos of a long lost time… a time that would never, ever come back. And why?

All because of _him_.

George covered his ears to shut out the accusing screams, but they just kept on echoing inside his mind.

_There is one more player. And if she's around, she must have played by the rules._

George could not know – maybe Lindsay had already slaughtered a dozen of her classmates without a twinge of guilt? That would certainly be believable, as in movies, when the loser gets their revenge.

_Loser?_

Lindsay wasn't really one. She was seen as such by the popular cliques, but generally accepted by everyone else. She had friends, goals in life, hobbies, a loving family and a particular talent – does one really need more? Does one need to bask in the light of shallow clique leaders and spread her legs as soon as a boy shows interest in her?

The fun thing was, despite all the negative feedback in class, Lindsay never considered herself a failure. She knew all too well the others would never ever think much of her, but she soon accepted it as fact. Heck, even Madeleine refused to throw herself at Lily's feet, yet no one saw her as a loser – instead, she was made the target of senseless gossip. Lindsay was too insignificant even for that.

George grasped his MAC10 tighter.

_Lindsay Carter._

Of course, it was all _her_ fault! She was probably a hardened murderess by then. If he, George Adams, eliminates her, he would do great service to the whole United States.

Shifting the blame, George rose to his feet. He was to eliminate that _complete monster_, and win the Training.

_And then…?_

All of a sudden, the thought of dying crossed his mind. Before, though he had been in danger several times (especially during the fight with Nick), he never contemplated the possibility that maybe – just maybe – he wasn't going to survive.

_Ah, whatever. Glory._

Yes, George knew, _felt_, that if he was going to die in the Training, it was going to be glorious. Not a shot to the head or anything.

But Lindsay, overpowering him? Now, that was out of the question.

* * *

Lindsay didn't enter the sports centre after all. Her notebook safely tucked away in her backpack, her bulletproof vest on, she just sat under a tree, hugging her legs. She felt some sort of odd emptiness, as if nothing counted any more. Of course, she was aware of George still being around, as the only other living contestant. She did not think about dying or surviving. Though the code in her notebook was a sign that she did not want to be killed, she still had no idea what she would do, were she to get out.

Lindsay did not wonder, did not consider her possibilities, or the life after the Training. If that could be called _life_, that is.

Part of her had already died first with Daniel, then with Al. What remained was not likely to stay intact for very long.

Gazing off into the distance, she reached for her palmtop, but only held it in her hand, without looking at it. Minutes passed when she finally held it up to examine the screen.

And there it was, the other red dot on the edge of the screen, slowly but surely approaching her from the wooded area.

George wiped some more blood from his ear, most of it finally dried, and kept on walking. He couldn't yet see Lindsay from through the trees, but she already knew he was coming.

The girl stood up and took her crossbow – only to find she had no idea how to use it properly, but it was not the right time to stop and consider.

_An arrow between the eyes._

Now that would have been perfect. But things seldom work out as you think they should.

George ducked as an arrow flew right over his shoulder.

_The bitch is there!_

Lindsay's first thought was to reload, but as she saw George appearing – holding a MAC10 – she just turned tail and ran, off towards the sports centre.

George wasted not time, and pulled the trigger, releasing a spray of bullets. The kick however made his hand slip, so most of them flew upwards.

Not all of them, however – Lindsay almost fell over when she felt two bullets hitting her back. It burned, for a moment she believed they had broken her spine. She stopped for a split second, wavering, but then saw how the sports centre's double door were fairly near. She ran inside, more shots echoing behind her, slammed the doors shut and leaned against them. If she had more time, she would have considered pulling one of the benches inside to her, to block George out for a while, at least.

This was not fighting, but, then again, Lindsay was no fighter.

She almost immediately felt George pushing the doors. He was far too strong, she was not going to hold on much longer. No chance to reload, either.

With a sudden urge to flee, Lindsay released the doors and ran – right to the door to the dressing room, only to find a stain of blood on the handle. Freaking out, she went for the stairs instead.

George fell flat on his face the moment the doors gave in. He had already thrown the MAC10 away, he did not want to waste any time reloading it, while he had not one, but _two_ perfect pistols on him too.

Getting up, he saw Lindsay running up the stairs. He fired with the Browning, but did not hit her – or so he thought. He quickly followed her.

Lindsay felt the pain in her back again, and knew a few more of those and she'd just faint for the pain. Not that the bulletproof vest was faulty, but her pain threshold seemed to be very low, most of which could be once again traced back to her anemia.

The stairs turned as they went upward, which gave the girl the advantage of being out of George's sight for a few more seconds.

_Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

What the hell was she thinking? Trapped in a tiny room with George at her heels?

Lindsay stood in the middle of the small gym, looking around disoriented. Maybe Gabriel could have found a hiding spot at night, but now, with the afternoon sun shining through the large window, she had no chance. She ran to the window and tried to open it, despite seeing all too well jumping from such a height would mean suicide.

"Gotcha."

She turned around, pale as a sheet. George was standing in the doorway, the Browning in hand.

In movies, you usually have a long speech about how and why you are going to kill your opponent. But this was no movie.

The Browning fired, and Lindsay was hit several times in the stomach. She fell sideway, her eyes turned out, her head right on one of the mats, her lower body lying under the now slightly open window, right behind the edge of a huge dumbbell.

George dropped his gun and walked over. He did not check Lindsay, he did not want to feel responsible for any more deaths. The one he had labeled as a_ loser_ might not have been anybody of importance, but still, somewhere far away, the accusing screams were still resounding in his mind.

George pushed the girl's corpse with his left foot, to gain full access to the window. He was pretty sure he would hear the trumpets and the congratulations in a few seconds, maybe even see the fireworks.

Giving another kick to Lindsay's motionless body, thus finally pushing her completely off to his left, he opened the window wide.

No voice was heard, just a few birds chirping.

_What the fuck?_

Maybe it was his ears. He leant out a little more.

Still nothing.

_Maybe it'll take them a few minutes to process it all. Or they're preparing to play the victory music… perhaps adjusting the speakers? Or the fireworks are ready to be launched and then-_

_And then…_

And then, George felt the push on his back.

It was so totally unexpected that his heart jumped, as he felt his legs lifting from the ground, his upper body toppling off, right out of the window, head first.

He needed to get hold of something! Quick!

With a twist, he managed to finally grab a hold of something – a hand. A girl's hand.

Lindsay stared at him with eyes wide open, as if she wasn't even noticing him, but still knowing all too well what she was doing.

_Resuscitated?! How could she?!_

Once again, it was not the time to wonder about such things or be surprised.

A thin line of blood came from Lindsay's mouth, those bullets to the stomach hurt like hell, and most likely caused some injury as well.

George was now standing with his legs pressed against the wall, his feet off the ground, his upper body hanging off, Lindsay trying to pull her hand away from his.

_I can still do this._

But before George could shift his weight to be back in, Lindsay rose her foot and kicked him hard between the legs.

_Just like Maddie… the pain…_

George wavered, his grip on Lindsay's hand loosened, his body tilted back heavily.

Seeing stars, in one last desperate attempt, he reached out with his other hand, and grabbed one of those low-hanging, thick ponytails. At the same time, he tried to tighten the grip on the girl's hand too, but the pain, oh how it hurt.

George finally toppled, but not letting go.

He was too heavy, he was to pull Lindsay down with him too!

_Fall! Fall, damn it!_

But Lindsay just wouldn't. He couldn't see she hooked her feet in the heavy dumbbell.

_I can still do this… I can! I can!_

Climbing up someone by holding her hand and her hair was just a silly idea. But in those split seconds, George had to hold on to each single thread of hope, as they were coming undone fast.

Then, in just one second, it all was over.

Two loud _RIP_s, Lindsay screaming.

"No…"

George managed to look back down.

Those last moments seemed like an eternity, as unearthly silence fell, there was nothing any more, only the floor of the basketball court coming closer and closer.

Lindsay felt the pressure on her hand and hair let go, and fell backwards, feeling a much worse pain than those bullets, in her right hand and the side of her head.

There was no one to witness this ignoble death, which was anything but glorious, as George's skull split open on the concrete, blood spraying out of it. His limbs jerked, broken bones, small wounds opening, the gray floor painted red. As his fingers opened slightly, his hands released a big lump of hair, and something that appeared to be three small, thin rods.

"Garh…" like the death-rattle of a dog.

This was not victory. Not a game.

It was just a terrible tragedy with a sole survivor.

* * *

**Boy #1 Adams, George – eliminated**

**1 contestant remaining**

**The Training is over.**


	34. Masterpiece

**So here it is - it's over. I hope it's not too much of a disappointment.**

**French sentences' translations: "I want to see her one last time" "That is not my daughter" "Chemical burning"**

* * *

_The knight rode to the princess, who sat quietly under the tree with the golden apples. The dragon hunting her was dead… or so they thought. It did not matter, they were happy, the golden apples shining in the sunlight. But as soon as their hands touched, a gigantic cloud appeared over the castle's courtyard, and a lightning struck the beautiful tree. As the golden apples fell to the ground and shattered, the palace went ablaze too. No one survived. The dreams were gone forever, no more smiles, no more laughter around the burnt, black spot on the ground where the palace once stood. Flowers would never grow again there._

_Death._

_Death._

_Death…_

Writing with her left hand was so unusual. But she should get used to it, she knew, as on her right hand, only her thumb and little finger remained – also, she would never remove the thick leather glove that covered it. She would not let anyone see her as some scarred wreck, bad enough that she lay in hospital for a week, and there was no way she could conceal the cut on her right cheek. Nevertheless, she knew that one was the fault of the boy she used to love… that long gone time, as if it was centuries ago.

No more fairytales or pretty dreams. All Lindsay could write about was death and pain, as of then, she had filled one entire page with the word _death_. She could pretend it was a writing exercise, to get used to letting her left hand be the dominant one… as if pretending would help anything. It just wouldn't.

It would never erase the moment when she literally punched her father in the stomach for asking her if she was all right. Would not erase the scared hisses when she threw the whole plate full of her favourite meal to the ground, shattering it, then intentionally cutting her arm with one of the ceramic shards, just to see the blood spill and realize nothing would hurt her ever any more. Or when Kelly, her best friend, came to visit her, only to be slapped and shooed away. She needed no compassion, no fake frienship.

Her hair was cut short, not only because most of it was ripped off, but also for preventing her from pulling it out and tearing at it in frustration.

"Linnie…" her mother would whisper, standing at her door, and most of the time getting it slammed in her face.

"Come on, I'll take you for a walk and we'll have an ice cream" her father would sometimes suggest, at which she would just stare blankly. Those empty eyes would soon deter John Carter.

No hugs. Nothing.

* * *

"Numbers?" Miss Durham opened that silly notebook of idiotic writings, as Lindsay lay dazed in her hospital bed.

"To change the lines… try out how it would sound if I swap them around…" the girl whispered.

She still knew what they meant. What she had hidden in those eight childish lines of fantasy poetry – not that she needed to, she would still remember only the numbers. But the time she wrote it, when she could still dream, it seemed much more adventurous to write up a code, and reveal it later – anyway, lines of numbers in a writing notebook would have seemed suspicious. Miss Durham let her keep the notebook, as it was not blood-spattered or torn, and she couldn't figure anything out of the lines.

Reveal the code.

Reveal it to whom?

There was nothing in it about the Training. Nobody would know about it, never. If her dreams were not only shattered, but gone, making it impossible for her ever to hope again – or so she thought – maybe someone else's would come true. One day.

She put her pen down and looked sideways at the blue notebook lying discarded on the floor, her eyes forever lacking the happy sparkle that used to be the trademark of the eternal optimist, who would not let some cliques full of shallow bitches ruin her will to live.

_Numbers and asterisks. Only Willie and Al would know._

Reveal.

_Reveal to whom?_

_1. In the clouds, a kingdom I see_

_2. Dreams live on, as it should be_

_3. When I look on, I miss you so much_

_4. You are so far, I long for your touch_

_5. But you will not stay, so let me finally go_

_6. I wished it would last forever, but it was not so_

_7. I slip away in the peace, silently_

_8. Just please, do not forget me…_

"I gotta go."

"Linnie! Where?"

Lindsay, so strangely thin and fragile in her black dress, stared blankly, as she would always do since she came back from the hospital.

"To… see somebody…" her right hand, three fingers of the glove flat, held the blue notebook.

Not a dream. More likely a duty.

* * *

Several miles away, far across the ocean, someone else felt something amiss, though they could not make sense of it, and never would. The Training would remain a secret project – and the Beaumont family would never make return to America.

"_Je veux la voir une dernière fois…_"

François Beaumont, the chemistry professor, handed a large bundle of money to the Lyon cemetery worker, who knew the coffin would have to stay shut – but now seemed to waver.

"_Ça… ça n'est pas ma fille…_" François stammered, his eyes widening in horror.

He knew it wasn't true. He recognized the thick black hair and the large golden cross, the mole on her arm, the clothes and the body type. It was indeed Madeleine.

His eyes narrowed.

"_Brulure chémicale…_"

But that was the end of it. The Beaumont family would never discern anything more – at least not that time.

It was over – twenty-nine lost lives, and one lost soul, a walking shell.

* * *

The notes of Mozart's _Requiem_ resounded through the house, always reminding the family of their terrible loss, the tragic death of their eldest son.

Fifteen-year-old Zachary Vine hit the last key, then lay back and sighed. Nine-year-old Christopher stood in the doorway, clutching his teddy bear, though he had abandoned it two years before, claiming to be a big boy.

"Come on in, Chris."

The little boy walked up to his brother.

"It's all right to cry…"

The sharp sound of the doorbell interrupted them.

Mrs Vine opened to see a girl with boyishly short hair holding a notebook.

"I know you…"

"Lindsay Carter" she answered, her voice hollow "can I see Zachary?"

She knew the boy by sight, as sometimes he had played at a school concert with Al, but they were by no means friends.

"You're my brother's classmate, right?" he asked, not getting up from his chair "what are you doing here? Offering your condolences?"

Of course, she was the sole survivor of that accident, as far as the Vine family knew.

"Just Lindsay" she said flatly, and looked around for a chair to sit down.

"There" Zach finally stood up and pulled his desk chair next to the piano "why are you here?"

Chris walked out in silence, he didn't want to cry in front of a stranger.

Lindsay just pulled out the notebook, and searched through a bit clumsily with her gloved hand.

"Here."

Zach looked at the silly poem and the rows of numbers, occasionally interrupted by asterisks.

"What is this?"

_Is she dedicating me a love poem?! _

The boy had seen her a grand totale of two or three times, so that seemed highly unlikely.

"Willie composed it."

"What…?"

Willie, the legendary Willie writing something so girlish and idiotic seemed completely impossible.

"Not the verses – the composition."

"All right, listen, I don't see where this is going, so please…" Zach had about enough.

Lindsay suddenly grabbed the empty partition lying on the piano beside the Mozart volume.

"Pencil."

"_What _are you exactly doing here?" Zach stood up, and Lindsay, looking at him, went silent for a moment.

Taller than herself. Pale brown hair, dark eyes. He totally did not remind her of Al… just some of his facial features looked similar.

_Take it to Zach…_

That was what Al had said, anyway.

"Pencil" she repeated, as if giving orders, still not changing intonation since she arrived.

Zach sighed, irritated, and gave her one.

"Look, this is a _do_" she scribbled down a note.

"That's a C" he corrected, annoyed "what do you want now, a music lesson?!"

"Look, take it as a _do_, and follow the numbers, according to the notes in those verses! This is Willie's composition, Al wanted you to play it!"

"Willie did not compose anything recently!"

"He did, during the tr… the… the _trip_! I heard him and Al humming it! I _saw_ it and wrote it down!"

"All I see is a stupid poem! And just why didn't Willie have it with him?!"

"Stupid bitch threw it in the fire!"

She remembered Miss Durham holding the composition and burning it with a lighter in front of her eyes as she lay in her hospital bed.

Zach threw Lindsay a killer look. All he wanted was to shoo her away as soon as possible.

She didn't mind his looks or his attitude – as if anything would hurt her. She just took the pencil with her left hand, and underlined a few passages in the verses.

"You see now? The composition is in the numbers, 1 to 8. Asterisks… there should be something else. I know only eight notes."

_1. In the clouds, a king__**do**__m I see_

_2. D__**re**__ams live on, as it should be_

_3. When I look on, I __**mi**__ss you so much_

_4. You are so __**fa**__r, I long for your touch_

_5. But you will not stay, __**so l**__et me finally go_

_6. I wished it would __**la**__st forever, but it was not so_

_7. I slip away in the peace, __**si**__lently_

_8. Just please, __**do**__ not forget me…_

Zach didn't really get it. He let out a puff of air, took the empty partition, and, following the numbers, filled up a few lines. Then he stretched his fingers.

"Okay, let me try."

He began playing, as Lindsay looked at him, or, rather, _through_ him, somewhere distant where only she could see.

"Wait…" he stopped "asterisk between the D and the F… or the _re_ and the _fa_, as you say… there could be a pause, or a…"

Lindsay did not pay attention any more. She didn't understand any of the musical terms Zach said, nor did she want to. Her mission was accomplished.

She, however, did not want to hear it now. Not yet – the memories were too fresh.

The notebook, full of silly writings, was not with her when she returned home. Before, she used to hold it jealously, let nobody see what she wrote in her spare time. But what did some stupid girly secrets matter now?

By the time Zach finished composing, correcting and adjusting, ignoring his parents calling him to dinner or telling him to stop playing already, it was far past midnight.

In front of him lay William Wosley's final masterpiece – the great composer's name would one day shine in neon letters, his music, the one found posthumously, to resound in the music halls.

* * *

Zachary bowed to the cheering audience at the memorial concert, after he had finished playing his enhanced version of what he had called _Memory of Class 10th C_, composed by William Wosley with help from Alistair Vine.

Lindsay sat in the front row with her parents, trying in vain to cover her ears or block the music out. Beautiful, yes, it was – but Al's voice humming it kept on roaring like thunder in her confused mind. Not letting go for a moment, for a second. Al still lived in her, and she knew with painful certainty he forever will.

"Thank you, thank you… really, please, now I have to go home…" Zach shyly pulled away from a few congratulating fans as he exited the music hall "oh! Miss Carter!"

He still didn't feel like calling her Lindsay or Linnie.

"What?!" she turned around, almost angrily.

"You… thank you" he took both her hands.

He, unaware of what he was doing, accidentally compressed the three empty fingers of the glove.

"Leave me alone!" she pulled away.

"No, I won't! Listen, I can't… I couldn't… I see it's really Willie's! You took it to me!"

"Meet us at the corner" John and Alice Carter whispered, and left - they didn't want to interfere. Lindsay didn't pay attention, anyway.

"Come on" Zach tried to take her hand, to calm her down.

"No!"

"What's wrong with you?!"

Lindsay walked towards the street corner with big steps, Zach following her relentlessly.

"Please! I just want to talk with you!"

The girl didn't answer.

_Al… Al… Al… Al…_

"Oh, all right" Zach finally resigned.

With a big sigh, he stopped, and looked at the Starbucks café on the other side of the street. He looked at Lindsay leaving one last time, then walked across and entered.

The girl just stood empty eyed between her parents at the street corner. None of them said a word.

"Al…" she whispered.

Her glance went down, to the program sheet her mother was still holding, with what would be played at the memorial concert.

_Memory of Class 10th C – by William Wosley and Alistair Vine  
Piano: Zachary Vine_

His name. His name in print. Not yet neon letters, but as a composer.

_Al… Al… Al… Al… Willie…_

Without another word, Lindsay pushed her parents' hands off her, and, almost running, crossed the street.

For a slight second there appeared to be light in her eyes, but it didn't last long enough to be certain, as she entered the café.

**THE END**

* * *

**Reviews most welcome. Please visit my forum, and give a try to my new story, in which I corrected most of the flaws this one had, like shallow characterization and too many names thrown all at once. I would love to hear from all of you, my beloved readers, as it thanks to you I got this far, and finished this story. I would never let you down, as you have always supported me.**


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